Regency Hearts Boxed Set

by Jennifer Monroe

  The once kind-hearted girl who had cried on Emma’s shoulder over the cruelty of her mother’s words no longer existed, for in her place stood a woman who wore a smirk of distaste.

  The door opened, and Susan’s husband pushed his head inside. “Susan dear, I am growing impatient with waiting.” He did not even look Emma’s way, and Emma felt another wave of sadness rush over her. The man had always treated her kindly in the past, but now he held his nose high as he ignored her outright.

  “Goodbye, Emma,” Susan said. “It is unfortunate that you have resorted to such ways. Ephraim warned me, but I did not listen. Now I know better.” Then she turned and glided out of the office.

  Anger and shame overwhelmed Emma; however, it should not have. Susan had never lifted a finger in order to help another, and yet she felt she could judge Emma? Why did no one understand that she was doing everything she could to save her father’s business?

  As a matter of fact, why did anyone feel the need to concern themselves anyway?

  ***

  During the carriage ride to the home of Lord Miggs, Emma had rehearsed what she would say to the baron. In her mind, she explained to him her concerns and he readily agreed. All she could do was hope that what happened in reality was as simple.

  However, dinner had come and gone, and still she had not broached the topic. As she accepted a glass of sherry from him as they sat in the drawing room, she knew she could put it off no longer. Emma had wished to sit in one of the large wing back chairs, but the baron had insisted she sit beside him on the plush couch. He sat a respectable distance from her, for which she was relieved, and he continued to refill the liquid in her glass whenever it became low.

  “Dinner was splendid,” Emma said, ignoring the lingering eyes of the man beside her. “I wish to thank you again for the business we have conducted together.”

  “Of course,” the baron replied. “In a week’s time, we, or that is you, will have more business.”

  He reached over and patted her leg, and Emma thought her dinner would rise. His hand did not linger, so she attempted to ignore the intimate touch.

  “Yes, about that,” Emma said. The baron reached once more for the decanter of sherry, and she said, “Oh, no thank you. I really should not have more.”

  “Oh, but you will,” he said with a laugh as he filled her glass once again. “As you were saying?”

  Emma sighed. She had to build up her courage to be straightforward with what she needed, but it was not easy. Rumors had already spread about her and this man, and accompanying him to the party under the guise of courtship would only make matters worse.

  “The new accounts you are helping me secure. I am indebted to you and thank you for all you have done.”

  The baron arched an eyebrow, clearly hearing that she was not overly pleased. “However, I must admit I am concerned with telling people we are courting.”

  Lord Miggs sighed. “And why is that?”

  “As it is, My Lord, I find it distasteful to lie to others. I also am concerned that it will give the wrong impression. Do you not worry that saying such a thing would prevent a lady who seeks your attention from finding it? That would be unfair to her.”

  Rather than be angry, as Emma had expected, the man gave a mirthless laugh. “Each time we meet, my generosity increases,” he said as if annoyed. “And yet, there is always more demands made by you. It seems I give and you take.”

  Emma stared at the man in shock. How could he believe such a thing? “My Lord, that is not what I meant to do.”

  “And yet, that is what you do.” He placed his glass on the table with a loud clink. “So, now I shall treat you as you treat me.”

  Emma went to take a sip of her brandy as she attempted to find the words to calm the man. However, before she could drink, he grabbed the glass from her hand and set it beside his.

  “My Lord?” she asked in surprise. “I am sorry. I did not mean to offend.”

  The man narrowed his eyes at her. “Your act of innocence must come to an end,” he sneered. “I have been nothing but kind to you, and in exchange, I receive cruelty. I find it quite unfair of you.”

  Dread filled Emma. Now she would lose his account as well as the ones she might have secured the following week. That, combined with the account she lost with Lucas, meant that her life was now over.

  “I know about your father.”

  Emma widened her eyes. “Excuse me?” she asked as her heart beat against her chest.

  The baron gave an evil grin. “He has been dead a year, has he not?”

  Emma’s mind raced as she tried to ascertain if the man knew or if he was attempting to get her to admit what he had guessed. He gave her little time to decide, for he added, “I have known for several months now. Burying the man two villages away was not a smart action on your part.”

  Emma had never felt such fear in her life. This had gone well past worrying about what others thought of her and the baron together. To learn her father had died and that it was she who kept the books would only result in all her clients leaving. “My Lord, I did not want people to think…”

  “That a woman was overseeing their books?” he asked with amusement. “That a woman, as most women are prone to gossip, may tell others of their financial standing?”

  “I would never do that!” Emma said indignantly. How dare he make such an accusation of her!

  “Perhaps you would not, but the people will now know the truth.” His grin would have been comfortable on a man convicted of murder. “For I shall tell them.”

  As he rose from the couch, panic raced through Emma. “No, My Lord! You cannot!” She reached for his arm, and he glanced down at her hand in disgust. “Please! I beg of you. I cannot pay rent as it is! And my accounts are few. If word was to get out about my father, I would lose it all…my business, my home. Everything.” How strong she felt in times past to be able to hold back her emotions, but those days had hope. Now, she imagined being left to live in the streets with nowhere to go.

  “Ah, so you beg for my mercy once again, do you?” he asked. It was with great reluctance she nodded. “The woman who changes her mind and agreements with each meeting and demands even more from me believes she deserves mercy?”

  “I will do anything you wish!” she cried. “Please, all I ask is that you do not tell anyone my secret.”

  The baron looked down at her and then reached into his coat pocket to produce several notes. “You will buy a decent dress,” he said. “I cannot have the woman I am courting appearing in clothes such as what you are wearing now, can I?”

  Emma had little choice. The cat had caught the mouse, and with his claws thoroughly sunk into her, she had to do as he requested.

  “Now, pick up your sherry,” Lord Miggs said. “We have much to discuss.” He retook his seat. “For I will be your new business partner.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Emma asked as she stared at the man.

  “Do you believe I am going to allow you to keep all the money from the accounts I have given you?” he asked with a sinister smile. “No. From this point forward, you and I own your business together.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The days that passed were a miserable lot, and with dark clouds hanging over him, Lucas pondered his future. Had anything truly changed since he learned the truth about Emma? In all reality, it had not. He still had work to complete, and that kept him busy enough to make him forget about the woman who had taken hold of his heart. Unfortunately, the times when he was not otherwise occupied brought about the fiasco that had torn her away from him.

  A week earlier, Stephen had come by in some feeble attempt to make Lucas ‘see reason’ as the man put it. That had been irritating enough in itself, but the man had also had the audacity to call Lucas a fool. A fool! How dare an old drunk who had done nothing with his life call a man of title, a duke, no less, a fool! Lucas should have seen the man dragged outside and whipped to an inch of his life for such words!

&nb
sp; Yet, Lucas found he could not, for what Stephen had said was true. Emma was a treasure in so many ways. Her beauty, her insight, her outstanding abilities in so many areas, all of it had captured him, and he felt great affection for her because of those things. Yet, he had mistakenly trusted her with his heart, and in that, perhaps he was a fool. He had been a simpleton to believe he could tame a woman with such beauty and strength.

  “How on Earth did that idiot of a baron tame her?” he whispered.

  “Beg yer pardon, Your Grace?”

  Lucas looked up. One of the gardeners—he could not recall the man’s name at the moment—gawked at him as if Lucas was some sort of circus performer. “You fool!” Lucas shouted as he pointed at a perfect rose lying on the ground beside the man’s boot. “I do not pay you to trim the actual roses! Even a child knows this.” It was a minor infraction but for some reason Lucas felt hot rage coursing through his veins. “I shall dock you a week’s wages for this! Now, if you wish to keep your position, I would suggest you keep your eyes on your work and not on what I am doing!”

  The man gave Lucas a trembling bow. “I’m sorry, Yer Grace. It won’t happen again.”

  Lucas gave the man one last glare. “See that it doesn’t.” Then he continued his trek down the cobbled path. He had hoped getting a breath of heaven would help calm his nerves, but it appeared not even a garden stroll would give him any relief. How was it his temper had worsened since that nasty encounter with Emma? Perhaps it was because he was meant to be an angry man. Pent up anger had to be released somehow. Yes, that explained his current state perfectly.

  He came to stand at the far gate that looked over the rolling green hills with which Emma had been so fascinated. How he missed sharing the magnificent view with her. Her words had been so soothing and calming, like a salve on a horrible wound. Now, however, he ached again, and it was as if his wound had festered now that she was not beside him.

  On the horizon, clouds darker than those above him gathered. How was it he could have thought the storm gone for good? For now they had returned with a vengeance. However, the fault was his. Had he not treated Emma horribly? Perhaps he should have given the woman her say. Yet, it was too late for that now; the damage was done, and too much time had passed. Besides, she had found happiness with Lord Miggs. That was not something Lucas could easily forgive.

  “Your mood grows dark like a winter’s night.”

  Lucas started and turned to see Ingrid approach, her emerald-green dress accentuating the green flecks in her eyes. “What are you doing here?” he asked. Why could people not simply leave him alone?

  “You do not wish to be in my company?” she asked as she came to stand beside him. “Perhaps you would rather brood alone.”

  He gave a heavy sigh. “I find myself full of regret.”

  Ingrid gave a sniff. “That is nothing new, Lucas,” she said. “Is it this woman, Emma, for who you feel regret?”

  He spun to glare at her. “Are the tongues of my servants so loose that their words have traveled to your estate?” he demanded.

  She shook her head and pulled her wrap in closer as the wind increased. “Not at all. However, a friend who ignores invitations to dinner does so for a reason.” She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “You cannot allow her to destroy you.”

  “That is the problem,” he said as he turned to stare off at the stormy clouds that continued to roll toward the estate. “I must admit, I cared for her deeply.” He snorted. “I still do. It is I who is destroying myself, not her.”

  “You still feel for her even after you learned she cares for another?” Ingrid asked in a shocked tone. She slipped her arm through his. “Come. Let us stroll.”

  With reluctance, he led her down one of the small paths, but he would not be rushed. He needed time to think before returning to the work that awaited him in his study.

  “You are a good man, Lucas Redstone,” Ingrid said as if speaking of what they would be eating for dinner. “One who is kind—when his temper is not raging, that is.” She shot him a smile, but he ignored it. She sighed. “You are a friend who is valued.”

  Stephen stopped short. “Like a treasure,” he mumbled as the words Stephen spoke of Emma came to mind.

  “Indeed,” she replied. “You are hurt, and rightly so. To simply leave with another man when she had promised to meet with you was not only rude, but unforgivable. I will say this with care, for I know you still have feelings for her…”

  Lucas placed a hand on that of his friend. “Please,” he said. “What is it you wish to share?”

  “The truth of the matter is she is not a member of society. For a duke to court a woman not even of the gentry is unheard of, and I feared you would be ridiculed for such an act. Therefore, is it not for the best that she has found another man in whom she can sink her claws?”

  “I suppose you might be right.”

  She laughed. “Suppose I might be right? My dear friend, you know I am right. She is a spinster who has become desperate; a woman so desperate she has to play games in order to get what she desires. I fear you are not the first, nor will you be the last.”

  As he listened, Lucas realized that some of what Ingrid said was true. However, one thing bothered him. “Do you not do the same?” he asked.

  Ingrid laughed again. “All women do,” she replied. “Yet, there are ways to do such a thing, some more civilized than others. For example, having a handsome man escort her around his property is a more civilized manner to gain the attention of men.”

  This made Lucas chuckle.

  “Now, that is better seeing you smile.”

  Lucas thought his heart would soar into the sky as he recalled Emma speaking the same words. As the wind increased around them, the anger and fog from his mind took wing. It had been Emma who had stood up to him when he was angry. It was she who had spoken to him about his temper and shared her own struggles. Had she not confided in him about her father? Perhaps, as Ingrid had said, she had played games in order to gain something, yet it was only fair to understand why she had done so. Was it because of the loss of her father? Or perhaps jealousy over other women. Regardless of her reasons, maybe he could advise her as she had him. He could help her see the error of her ways, just as she had done for him.

  “Tonight, I will go to the ball,” he said as they continued their stroll, a new hope rising inside him. “Tomorrow, I will call on Emma and listen to what she has to say.”

  Ingrid stopped and turned to him, her features filled with concern. “Oh, Lucas, I fear you will only sink further into heartbreak if you were to do such a thing. Do you honestly believe it is worth it?”

  Lucas thought of Emma, of her smile and her strength. The manner in which she made him feel, her words always encouraging, and he knew the answer. It was time he returned the favor.

  “Yes, she is most definitely worth it.”

  ***

  The gown was the color of the sea with intricate lace around the neckline and at the edges of the puffed sleeves. Tiny white pearls created intricate patterns on the bodice, and a white bow lay just beneath her breasts. The garment exposed more bosom than Emma would have preferred; however, the woman at the shop assured her it was of the latest fashion, so Emma had accepted the advice given to her. What did Emma know about the latest fashions? Yet, as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, Emma could not feel anything other than regret.

  It was not that the dress was not beautiful, for it was. Nor was her despondency due to the fact that her hair or the light makeup she had applied did not work well, for they did. No, her dejection came from the fact that, somehow along the way, she had ruined everything.

  She had allowed the baron to blackmail her, allowed him to not only take control of her business, but now her life. He had spoken at length of his plans for her future. He made suggestions that were more demands about how she would run her business and the stakes he would take. With Lucas no longer speaking to her, she now had no one to whom she c
ould turn, no place to where she could escape. The dress had been the nail on the coffin, for she had wished to make this first purchase on her own, with her own money. And she had wished to bring a smile to Lucas’s face and not lust to the baron’s eyes.

  However, it was too late for regrets. She had made her bed, and therefore, she had no one to blame but herself for lying in it.

  The wind whistled through tiny spaces she never could find in order to cover them, so she grabbed her cloak and made her way down the stairs to the office. The weather had not let up for days, and Emma had become accustomed to seeing the dreariness around her. Perhaps the sun would be gone forever and storms were to be her life from this day forth. After all that had happened, she could not see the world in any other light.

  Her thoughts turned to Lucas as she waited for the baron to arrive. Lord Miggs had been adamant that she be ready on time, so she made certain she was early in case he decided on time was too late. The man had always blustered, but his rancor had deepened, and she could take no chances. She hated to be forced to depend on him, but without Lucas, what choice did she have?

  Lucas was such a different man from the person she was; however, despite their differences, they had made a connection of sorts. She hoped that, one day, he would allow her to share with him what was on her heart. More than anything, she wished to tell him she loved him. To what extent that love was, she did not know, for experiencing such an emotion was new to her. The question was, would she ever be relieved of that feeling? In her heart, she knew she would not. To imagine loving another was unthinkable, for her heart belonged to him, and denying this truth was pure folly.

  One fear that gripped her was for the man himself. If he continued on his current course, would his anger one day consume him much like a storm consumes a fishing boat upon the sea? She prayed he would find a way to calm it, for if he did not, he would sink beneath the crashing waves of his temper as quickly as that boat.

  Turning, she walked over to the desk and ran a gloved hand across the old wood. She closed her eyes, and memories of her father sitting hunched over the various ledgers came to mind. When she was young, he would hug her and place her upon his knee as he told tales of dukes and viscounts, promising her that, one day, a man of title would fall in love with her, so much so that he would do anything she requested. Although she knew Lucas was wealthy, she cared nothing for his money or the fine dresses it could buy. No, all she wanted from him was his love.