Regency Hearts Boxed Set

by Jennifer Monroe

  For the next few hours, Emma explained the basic management of numbers, how to organize his receipts and letters, all the time wondering if it was time for the lessons to end lest his anger became directed toward her. Gone were the fleeting images of possible romance, all replaced by thoughts of this man striking her with his fists; although, not once did he grow angry or frustrated with her.

  ***

  Closing the ledger, Emma stood and knuckled her back. They had been at it for several hours, and the hour was growing late. Although she had been concerned he would grow angry with her, he had not. Instead, he had upheld the pleasant behavior he had before the entry of the servant. However, she did not allow the shield to fall, for, although his presence captivated her, his temper appalled her. Furthermore, he had an interest in the woman who had dined with him earlier in the week.

  Emma laughed silently. Even if the other woman had not been present, Emma would never have a chance with a man of the duke’s position. To allow such thoughts to overcome her was a useless waste of time, of which she had little.

  “I believe there is nothing more with which I can aid you,” she said as she turned to him. This, of course, was not completely true; he did need to learn to control his temper, but she was not the person to help him in that arena. She was a simple bookkeeper, not a governess nor an instructor of etiquette. “To continue instructing you would be unfair and only a way to extort money from you, which I would not do.”

  “I see,” he replied as he tapped his chin. “Allow me to pay you for your time today.” He reached into his coat pocket and produced a ten-pound note. “Please do not argue this time.”

  “Very well,” Emma said as she took the note from him. When her hand brushed his, she swallowed hard and put the note into her pocket. “Your generosity is great, and I thank you for it.” This would be more than enough to pay the past rent and a little left over, which she would put away for the next month’s rent.

  When she looked back up at him, he was staring at her once again. This time she saw sorrow behind his eyes. “I believe that, if all of your ledgers are delivered to me from now on, there will be no more discrepancies. I do not mean any disrespect toward your father, but if a bookkeeper cannot be trusted to keep accurate records and not cheat his clients, then that bookkeeper does not deserve to retain his office.”

  “I agree,” the duke said. “And I will send you everything I have.”

  He stepped aside, and Emma walked past him. Although she wished to return home, she found it difficult to leave. “If you need my assistance any further or have any questions, I am here for you.” Her voice was just above a whisper, and she berated herself, for she sounded like a foolish schoolgirl. “Goodbye.” She hurried to the door but stopped when he called out.

  “Miss Barrington.” His voice was a near-panic. “I have a question for you.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and then turned back around to face him.

  “The day you came here in lieu of your father?”

  “Yes?” she said, her heart racing. Would he once again inquire after her father again? She hoped not, for it was a discussion she did not wish to have.

  “I…lost my temper that day, which I am apt to do. Yet, you came back through that door. You stood before me and spoke straightforwardly.”

  He was angry with her for speaking against him! She really did need to learn how to stay her tongue or she would be ousted!

  “I apologize for my outburst, Your Grace,” she said. “I did not mean to disrespect…”

  “No. I am not seeking an apology from you.” He took a step closer. “I saw the hurt in your eyes, and yet you did not weep. How was it that you were able to control your emotions? Or why did you do so?”

  Emma found his questions strange, and she struggled to understand if he was angry with her or curious. His inquiry seemed sincere, and judging from the tone of his voice, he was not angry. Therefore, she chose to be honest in her reply. “As a woman, I am told I cannot conduct business as a man would,” she began and then paused as she tried to collect her thoughts. “I admit that it was not only that, however.”

  “Please, continue.”

  She sighed. “The fact of the matter is, your temper terrified me, I cannot deny that. However, my love of the business, for my father, takes precedence. In order to maintain what we have, I must speak my mind, even if it brings about the anger of the person with whom I am speaking.” She glanced down at the floor. Discussing her personal feelings with someone else had never been easy. Friends assumed time she did not have. “As for my tears, they are my own, and I fear that, if I had released them while in your presence, I would have lost your respect.”

  The room went silent, and Emma looked up to see the duke studying her.

  “You have gained my respect in more ways than you can know,” he said. “The ability to control your own storm is an admirable trait I must learn.” He reached out and took hold of her hand. “Miss Barrington, as you have witnessed, a storm brews inside me, an anger I struggle to control. Would you teach me to quell this disturbance within me?”

  “I-I do not know how I would be able to do such a thing.”

  “Be in my company. Allow me to observe you, to learn from you.” He released her hand and the sadness returned to his face. “I realize this is a strange request, but I do ask it, nonetheless. Of course, I will pay you for your services.”

  Emma considered his offer. What could she do? It truly was a strange request. She did not control her emotions as well as he thought; however, after considering the manner in which he had treated the servant earlier, she was better prepared than he. She had agreed to accompany the baron to the party in order to keep the office; how was this any different? And the duke would be paying her for her services, money she needed desperately.

  “Very well,” she replied. “I will continue to help you in any way I can, but I cannot make any promises.”

  “Wonderful,” the duke said. “I look forward to learning more from you.”

  Emma could not help thinking that she, too, looked forward to their time together. Hopefully, he would not beat her before it was all over!

  Chapter Ten

  Stephen trembled as Emma helped him don his new coat. She had decided to use the money the duke had given her to purchase the item for Stephen, which in turn would allow the man to converse with other shopkeepers. It was a gamble, but it was one she had to take, and she hoped the former drunk would be able to make contact with new clients who would be willing to use the services offered by her office. The point of the matter was they certainly would not discuss turning over business accounts with a man in ragged clothing. And certainly not a woman regardless of what clothing she wore.

  “What if I fail you?” he asked in a shaky voice. “You’ve done so much for me, and all I’ll do is disappoint you.” He looked down at the ground, and Emma could not help but feel her heart swell for the man.

  She reached out and took his hand. “I am proud of the accomplishments you have made in the past year. I must admit, however, that I am hurt you believe me to be a fool.”

  His head shot up, and he gaped at her. “You ain’t…aren’t a fool! I would never think of even suggesting such a thing about you!”

  She sniffed derisively. “Only a fool would buy a man a new coat and send him to conduct business if she did not believe in his capabilities.” When the old man brightened, she added, “I trust you, Stephen. I know in my heart that you are a good man, one who can converse with many with skill.” She squeezed his hands and sighed. “To be honest, you are my last hope to save the business. Will you at least make an attempt? For me?”

  “Yes, Miss Emma. I’ll try.”

  Smiling, she leaned forward and placed a small kiss on his rough cheek. “Thank you, Stephen. You know where to go first, correct?”

  “I do,” he said, smoothing his jacket, although it had no wrinkles. “The new millinery shop and then to the butcher’s.” He walked past
her and stopped at the door. “I suppose I should wish you luck, too.”

  “Luck?”

  “With the Duke of Storms. If he harms you in any way, you let me know and I’ll take care of it.” He lifted his hand in a fist, and Emma's heart went out to him. His arthritis was so bad, he could not close it completely, but it was the kind of love he had for her that she cherished. His words, his actions, they were what she needed, but more importantly, he was there when she needed a friend.

  “I know,” she said with a smile. “Now, off with you.” He gave her a cheeky grin and then left, and Emma returned to the small desk. Memories flooded her mind, causing a few tears to well in her eyes. She recalled being no older than eight, her father hunched over this same desk with candlelight highlighting his features. He would look up at her and smile, outstretch his arms, and pull her in tight. He always told her how much she was loved. As time went by, she studied under him, learning to read, write, and understand numbers, and he always said how proud he was at her quick wit.

  As she ran her hand over the old wooden desk, she sighed heavily. “I will not fail you,” she whispered. “Stephen is procuring more work for us. The business will be fine; you will see.”

  A movement from outside the window caught her eye, and she recognized the carriage the duke had sent for her before come to a stop in front of the office. Although she knew the man would never see her as she saw him—a business that was capable of succeeding—it was nice to dream.

  ***

  “I hope you do not mind accompanying me,” the duke said as Emma walked beside him. The man had asked her to join him for a stroll, and although she thought it a strange request, she accepted. She had to admit the gardens had been a curiosity to her since her first time there; therefore, it gave her the opportunity to see what it had to offer. “It is far too lovely today to remain inside; something Goodard reminds me I do all too often.”

  Emma smiled. “I do not mind.” And she spoke the truth. She had never seen so many colors of flowers in one place before, and there were some varieties that were new to her. One might have thought it strange that she did not know the names of flowers, but she spent the majority of her days stuck inside a dreary office working with numbers. It was only on rare occasions she ventured out to enjoy what nature had to offer. “And what are those?” she asked, pointing to a bed filled with dark red and pink flowers.

  “Those are Sweet Williams.”

  She stopped and stared at him. “Surely you jest!” she said with a gasp. “Why on Earth would anyone give a flower such a name?”

  He laughed. “I have no idea, but that is what they are called. I have to admit, I find the name strange myself, but I suppose I have no right to change the name of a flower simply because I do not prefer the name it was given.”

  “No, I suppose you are right,” she replied with a light laugh.

  Several gardeners worked at various tasks, some pulling weeds while others trimmed the maze of hedges. At the end of one path rose a large bush, taller than even the duke, with light purple flowers.

  “And those?” she asked, hoping he would not tire of her questions. She was uncertain why she felt at ease asking, but she could not stop herself. Her father had admonished her—playfully, of course—on more than one occasion for her propensity to inquire about anything and everything that piqued her fancy.

  “Those are called lilacs,” the duke replied, clearly amused by her inquiries.

  She touched the tiny petals. “So, these are lilacs. I have heard of them, for I once was given a soap that had the scent of lilac, but I did not know that these were the flowers from which it came.”

  They continued the stroll, passing a gardener who stopped to bow as they walked past. Emma offered the man a smile, and he looked back at her with shock, as if he had never received such a response. This made her sad; everyone deserved a smile from time to time, even if he was a servant.

  Although Emma did not want their time to come to an end, the hour was growing late. The carriage had not stopped in front of the Barrington office until just past two, and after arriving at Bonehedge Estates, she had been forced to wait more than an hour as the duke finished a meeting. She still was unsure what he expected of her on this new venture, but he would be paying her for her time, and she needed the money. Therefore, she said nothing.

  “My father was like me,” the man said as they came to a stop along the path. “Or rather, I am like him. He was too busy to enjoy the gardens, or anything else, for that matter. Yet, during those rare occasions I do come out here, I find myself not wanting to leave.” He laughed. “You would think I would spend more time out here than I do.”

  “I understand,” Emma replied. “Not that I have ever had a garden, but I have always wanted one.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I apologize. I do not mean to complain, for I have had a good life.”

  “No. Please, tell me more about your life. I would enjoy hearing your story.”

  “Well, although we never had a garden of our own, my father allowed me to join him at times when he delivered ledgers to clients. If they had a child, sometimes I would be allowed to join him or her in their garden. It was an experience I always cherished. However, it has been many years since I’ve had such an opportunity.” She looked around her and then back at the duke. “You have all of this; I would suggest you make time to enjoy it.”

  “That sounds more a command than a suggestion,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

  Emma felt fear grip her for a moment. Would he become angry with her? “I did not mean offense…”

  The man laughed. “No offense was taken,” he said. “You are the instructor and I am the pupil; I should be obeying your commands, should I not?” He wore a mischievous grin, and Emma could not help but return it.

  “Then I shall not offer any apologies from this day forward.”

  They continued their stroll until they came to a fence at the far end of the garden. Emma stopped, her eyes widening. “Oh, Your Grace, the views! They are marvelous!” As far as she could see, rolling green hills covered in yellow and white flowers stretched before her. How could such vistas have existed so close to her home and she had never seen them?

  “I agree,” he said as he stood beside her. “When I was a child, I would explore those fields in search of all sorts of treasure.” He sighed and shook his head. “What a silly thing to believe I could find hidden treasures.”

  “It is not silly,” Emma admonished. “It is in our imagination where our dreams lie. There is nothing silly about having dreams.”

  “I find myself learning from you with each word you speak,” he said as he gazed down at her. She knew she had to be as red as the Sweet Williams they had left in the flowerbed behind them. “You have such a wonderful outlook on life, so bright and encouraging. How do you do that despite your business struggling?”

  Although she knew he meant no offense, she found it difficult to answer. How did one explain hope to one who had everything he could ever want? How did one explain faith to one who did not have to rely on faith in order to live?

  “Have I asked too much?”

  Emma smiled. “No. It is a complicated question is all.” She turned to look at the hills. “The truth is, if I accept that which lies before me, the weight will cause me to sink beneath a storm of sorrow. I cannot allow that to happen, not for me and especially not for my father.”

  “Your love of the man is admirable. Your willingness to help him with his business speaks of the strength of your relationship with him. He has taught you well.”

  “He has,” Emma replied. A hot tear rolled down her cheek, although she had tried to keep it from escaping. “I am sorry. I suppose I cannot keep all of my emotions in check all of the time.”

  She went to wipe away the tear, but the duke reached up and brushed his thumb against her cheek. “I understand,” he whispered. “In my own way, I find myself trying to impress my father.” He gave a small snort. “Although he has been dead for
some time now, I still feel the need to please him. I want him to see that his son is not a failure.”

  His words shocked Emma. This man, by all appearances, was strong and capable. She would never have guessed he felt about himself so. “Although I do not know you well, I do not believe you are a failure.”

  The duke offered her a smile, but she could see the sadness in it.

  “That is a command, not a suggestion,” she added with a small smile.

  They laughed before they returned their gaze to the hills, where they stood for several minutes enjoying the quiet solitude that surrounded them.

  ***

  Emma remained in the garden with the duke for what Emma estimated was more than an hour, and as they made their way back to the house, they discussed the best time and day for Emma to return.

  “My schedule is busy over the next four days,” the duke said as he walked beside her. “Are you available on Saturday? Say, around two?”

  “Yes, that would be fine.” She still was unsure what they had accomplished this day, but she had enjoyed herself regardless. The strange thing was, although she had sworn off any thoughts of the man as any sort of romantic interest, she could not help but secretly wish he would kiss her. It made no sense whatsoever, but she could not stop the images from playing in her head. He had been nothing but kind to her, and the strange images of them together kept flickering in her mind. And although it was against her better judgment, she allowed them their brief moments, if only to experience the chance at love. Not the reality, she was certain, but that small chance something might grow between them.

  As they entered through the rear door of the house, they came upon the butler and a woman who Emma thought was the most beautiful she had ever seen. She had flowing blond locks and wore a purple gown that emphasized the swell of her breasts and her small waist. The jewelry the woman wore could have purchased the building in which her father’s office was located, the room in which she lived, and a carriage thrown in for good measure.

  “Lucas!” the woman said as she waited for him and Emma to approach. She kissed him on the cheek and asked, “Is this the new servant you employed?”