The Marriage Bargain
Page 10
It was probably for the best. It meant he wasn’t around to take notice of how Bridget had already packed her trunks. Emmeline’s early departure had to be handled carefully. She would make a brief appearance at tonight’s ball, slip away early, and then take a hired coach back to Chelten House. No one would notice her absence tomorrow morning in the hustle and bustle of all the guests departing.
It was time to go down where a waiting carriage would take her to the Royal Pavilion, yet she found small ways to put it off. Another glance in the mirror. A quick sweep of the room to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. Her eyes caught on the miniature Pavilion Anslowe had given her, sitting atop her vanity. She picked it up and took it to the unlatched trunk, nestling it within some of the soft folds of her gowns. A sweet memory, however fleeting, of what might have been.
Once satisfied, she took the slim black box containing the pearl necklace Anslowe had given her. She crossed to his room, and left it, along with a note, atop his bureau. She pulled on her gloves, carefully covering the fading bruise Mama had left. The irony was not lost on her. She’d feared Mama for so long. Yet now she’d lost Anslowe’s love. And the bruising of her heart hurt far worse than any pain Mama had ever inflicted.
Anslowe stared out the window. Trade ships sailed in and out of the harbor, yet he hardly saw them. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the ache along his spine. The inn where he’d stayed for the past two nights was hardly reputable, and the comfort of the bed left much to be desired. Yet he’d needed time to collect his thoughts, to sort out his feelings before he faced Emmeline.
He scuffed his boot against the floorboard. Lord Sotheby’s own foolish investment was the cause of all this, but the man’s need for a scapegoat would see all of Anslowe’s aspirations ruined.
Years of work brought to nothing.
And yet the void in Anslowe’s chest had little to do with his tattered political career.
A knock sounded at the door. Anslowe turned. “Come in.”
A spindly looking man with graying hair grown over his ears stepped toward him. “My lord, the paper you’ve been waiting for has just arrived.” He pressed it into Anslowe’s hands.
“Thank you.” Anslowe gave a curt nod and tipped the man.
He opened the paper, anxious for news of how the trial had gone. He scanned the article outlining the outcome and blew out a relieved breath. Captain Sharpe had followed through. Anslowe could at least take comfort knowing he’d done one last thing of value before his political influence was lost. Emmeline would be glad to hear about it as well, given her role in the matter.
But, no. Perhaps she wouldn’t wish to speak to him at all. The very advice he’d given Captain Sharpe sprang to his mind. If you are not willing to risk your own career for the good of your men, then you don’t have any business serving as captain. The chastisement mocked him. His own words, a knife to his gut.
Through the haziness in his brain, one thing became clear. He needed Emmeline. Loved her. And what must she think of him? That he cared more for his career than for her? How quickly he’d lost sight of what was important. There were plenty of men who could continue to fight for bills and squabble over votes. But only he had a duty to Emmeline. Stronger than any duty to the House of Lords.
Emmeline had been guilty of nothing more than being the bearer of bad news. Yet he’d blamed her and bolted at the first sign of trouble. The look in her eyes. It had nearly killed her to tell him the truth. Because she’d feared losing him. And she was right to fear, for how badly he’d reacted.
He needed to make things right with her. He called for a carriage, his patience thinning with every moment he had to wait. His mind urged the conveyance up the hill toward Havencrest.
The carriage slowed, and Anslowe peered out the window, trying to glimpse what had caused the driver to curb his speed. A long line of carriages waited to turn out the drive leading to the road that led down toward Brighton. The ball. He’d completely forgotten.
He tapped on the roof of the carriage. When the driver stopped, Anslowe swung the door open. “I’ll walk from here.” He cut across the wide meadow, hoping to avoid the bulk of the guests. He went around through the back doors.
Anslowe ran up the stairs, hoping he could catch Emmeline before she departed for the ball. Heaven knew he wasn’t dressed for it with his unshaven face, his rumpled clothing. Emmeline’s room was empty. Blast! He rang for his valet, nearly sending the man into a bout of fits with how much he hurried him.
He checked his cuffs one more time and then took one final glance in the mirror. And that was when he caught sight of the small black box resting atop the bureau, the very one containing the pearl necklace he’d given Emmeline for her birthday. Wedged inside was a note. He unfolded it and read quickly.
Lord Anslowe,
You cannot know how much I regret approaching you at the Ramsbury’s ball a year ago. I acted selfishly, looking, hoping for an escape. What I never expected to find was a man who captured my heart. It is yours, Anslowe.
Your connection to me and my family has hurt you and for that I am deeply sorry. I will do everything within my power to shield you from the effects of my father’s folly. I will make a brief appearance at the ball so as not to arouse any rumors, and then return to Chelten House tonight. Once there, I will pack my things and return to London where I will do my best to mount a case for an annulment.
No doubt this will cause some scandal, but I imagine with your title and standing it will die down quickly. Unfortunately, I cannot protect you from all the consequences my connections have brought, but hopefully your political allies will not hold your short-lived marriage to me against you.
Emmeline
Anslowe felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Emmeline, gone? An annulment. The idea was preposterous for a thousand reasons, most importantly because he loved her! Hang his political allies!
He tucked the black case in his pocket and hurried from the room. He strode down the stairs and called for his carriage, ignoring greetings from several other guests. Never had such a short journey taken so long. The sight of the Pavilion, and the time spent there with Emmeline, made his chest ache with longing. She had to still be there. She had to be.
The ballroom was enormous by any standard, but doubly so when one was looking for a rather petite woman. He didn’t even know what she was wearing. He glanced through the crowd continuously, his anxiousness growing as the hands on the clock nudged forward. He’d become nearly frantic when he finally caught sight of a dark-haired woman in a scarlet dress.
He was across the room in seconds, following her out onto the verandah. “Emmeline!”
She turned, her eyes going wide at the sight of him.
Words seemed too fragile, too tenuous to use in such a moment. Instead, he closed the distance between them and took her into his arms. She resisted only a moment before melting against him, her entire body trembling.
“I’m so very sorry,” she cried.
The feel of her in his arms was heaven and he gathered her tightly to him. “The only thing you should feel sorry for is the note you left me.” He pulled back, making sure she faced him squarely. “We had a bargain, remember?” He was trying to make light of the matter, yet suddenly his heart was so heavy, overflowing with love for the woman before him, he could hardly get the words out. “A marriage bargain. I don’t want an annulment. My political career is nothing to me, without you.”
She looked up at him with wide eyes, uncertainty still marking her expression.
He gazed at her fiercely, doing his best to convince her of his sincerity. “I am sorry if my poor reaction caused you to doubt me. I love you. And I want nothing more than to be worthy of a woman like you.”
Tears streaked her face. “What of your political career?”
He took her face in his hands, brushing at her tears with his thumbs. “Lord Sotheby is bitter, but his wrath will pass. Everyone will know it was his own foolish ventu
res that brought his ruin. In a year or two, this will have been forgotten. And for now, we are free to travel—for as long as we’d like.”
She half laughed, half sobbed. “Is that the silver lining then?”
“Only if there is a chance you haven’t given up on me completely.”
Emmeline shook her head. “How could I give up on the man who has captured my heart?” She smiled through her tears.
“Have I really?”
She nodded. “You have.”
He drew her closer, staring at her with adoration. “I am well aware of how precious your heart is, Emmeline. And I promise to care for it, to guard it carefully.”
“Oh, Anslowe. How I love you.”
The words reverberated through him, resounding with the power of a lightning strike. Suddenly, the distance between them felt far too great. Anslowe leaned closer, and with the utmost gentleness, he kissed each of her cheeks, feeling the wetness of her tears. “And I, you.” Then he brought his mouth to hers, his lips both insistent and tender. With her mouth beneath his, no words were necessary.
A seal, a promise.
The end of their bargain.
And the beginning of their marriage.
Regency House Party: Havencrest
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And be sure to check out the other titles in the Regency House Party: Havencrest Series
Miss Marleigh’s Pirate Lord
The Vexatious Widow
Charmed by His Lordship
The Captain’s Lady
About the Author
At a young age Heidi perfected the art of hiding out so she could read instead of doing chores. One husband and four children later, not much has changed. She has an abiding love for peanut butter M&Ms, all things fall, and any book that can make her forget she is supposed to be keeping her children alive.
Heidi currently lives just north of Boston, in a charming old town in southern New Hampshire.
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