Regency Hearts Boxed Set

by Jennifer Monroe

  The door behind her opened, and she shivered in the cool air that filled the room. In the doorway stood Lord Miggs.

  “Let us go. The ball will begin soon, and I will not be late.”

  Emma nodded. Then she tapped the desk with her hand, perhaps for a sign of good luck. It was not that she believed in such nonsense, but she would need whatever help she could get. When she had locked the door, the baron grabbed her elbow just as the first droplets of rain came down.

  “Tonight will be wonderful,” he said with a wide grin that did not reach his eyes. “All of my friends will see the fine catch I have made.”

  Sadness filled Emma as she stepped into the carriage, and the feeling increased when Lord Miggs sat beside rather than across from her. He placed his arm across the back of the seat, and Emma held her breath, certain he would lay his arm across her shoulders.

  He glanced down and licked his lips. “Did you wish to say something?” he asked. “I can ask the driver to stop and allow you to alight so you can return to your office alone if you would like.”

  The man had no idea how tempting his offer was, even if it meant being seen left in the now pouring rain to walk back alone after dark. “No, My Lord,” Emma whispered. “I wish to remain with you.” How the lie grated on her! However, she had little choice in the matter. If she wanted to save her father’s flailing business—no, her flailing business—she would have to remain beside this horrid man.

  “As I thought,” Lord Miggs replied with another of his grins that sent a shiver down her back and made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. As the carriage continued its journey through the muddy streets, the man did not remove his arm from the back of the seat. Nor his eyes from her bosom. And Emma could do nothing but stare out the carriage window, wishing it was Lucas sitting beside her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The estate of Lord Wesley Gates was a grand structure with large spires and high ceilings. The ballroom was not as large as the one at Bonehedge Estate, but it rivaled even the greatest of mansions in the area. Large chandeliers sparkled much like the fine crystal glass Emma held, although she took little interest in the wine within it. She and Lord Miggs had arrived an hour earlier, and upon her first look at the stately room, she could not help but feel a bit intimidated. How could someone of her class be allowed to enter such a place? However, the people who milled around her were nothing more than people, even if they were wealthy. They ate, drank, talked, and danced; although, their manner in conducting themselves was more reserved than those who attended parties of the lower class. How could anyone be so stiff?

  She made every attempt not to stare at the jewelry the women wore around their necks and on their fingers and ears. The amount of money that went toward purchasing such trinkets was more than she would ever make in her lifetime, and yet these women wore them as if they were nothing. Their dresses and gowns had been crafted by expert hands, much like the one she wore, and their hair was set in the latest styles. The men stood beside them in fine coats, their laughter drowning out the sounds of the men and women playing instruments in the corner.

  “I have business to which I must attend,” the baron whispered in her ear. “Do not do anything to embarrass me or ruin any opportunities I seek for you. As a matter of fact, I believe it would be wise if you would sit down in one of those chairs. Remember, you and I are courting, which means you are to decline any requests for dances.”

  “Yes, My Lord,” Emma replied with a sigh, repulsed by the man but thankful he was willing to leave her alone. It was doubtful any man would request a dance, and she was happy to deny them even if they did. If the man believed he was hurting her, he could not have been more wrong. The only thing that brought a damper on her current situation was the realization she could not leave without his permission. Otherwise, sitting where no one would bother her was much better than forcing her to be at his side at all times.

  She stopped to take a glass of wine from the refreshment table before taking a seat along one wall. Lightning streaked across the sky, and she watched it through one of the large windows that ran alongside the wall beside her. Smiling politely at the men and women who moved past her, she cared not that they did not return her greetings. Let them live their dispassionate lives; hers was null anyway.

  As the conversations around her melded together into a buzz, she considered what she had done to her life. Here she was, a spinster made to appease an older man in order to continue with her business. Yet, was it worth it? This was the problem that continued to gnaw at her heart and mind. With the new accounts Stephen had acquired for her, she was certain she could do it on her own, but the rent she owed made that impossible.

  It was as if she were in a deep hole, and the harder she attempted to climb out of it, the more of the sides fell in on top of her. If she could reach the top, she would be free. However, she could not reach the top without the help of the baron, not if she did not wish to be thrown out into the streets. Although, at times she could not help but consider that it was a more desirable place to be than in the company of such a vile man.

  It was what he would ask for later that gripped her insides. He would not be happy to simply have her on his arm while they attended parties together. No, eventually he would want her in his bed, and the thought made the liquid in her glass slosh as her hands trembled at the idea.

  Seconds turned to minutes, and another hour passed. Emma wished Lord Miggs would return, for the stares she received increased, and her discomfiture worsened. Then her heart skipped a beat as a small group of people not five paces from her laughed, their attention drawn to one man: Lucas Redstone. How had she missed his entrance?

  The fact he was there made her heart palpitate. He was as handsome as ever, his long hair pulled back and tied in a ribbon at the nape of his neck. His black coat contrasted with the bright white of the lace on his shirt and perfectly tied cravat.

  Then his gaze met hers as lightning flashed outside and thunder rattled the windowpanes, and his smile faded. She held her breath as he walked toward her.

  “Emma,” he said with the slightest bend of his neck. “May I ask you something?”

  “Anything,” she said, the words barely able to leave her choking throat. How she wished to fall into his arms, to tell him of her worries, and to ask that he take her away from here!

  “The rumors of the baron? Are they true?” His eyes held hers, and she could not help but see the pain behind them.

  Before she was able to respond, however, the voice of Lord Miggs boomed through the room, much like the thunder that proceeded it. “Your Grace,” he said as if seeing Lucas was the most marvelous thing to happen to him in recent days, “what an honor to see you here tonight.”

  Lucas nodded his greeting but made no reply.

  “I do hope that my Emma has not disturbed you.”

  “Your Emma?” Lucas asked, attempting to hide his astonishment and clearly unable to do so.

  “Why yes,” Lord Miggs replied with that wide grin of his. “Miss Barrington and I are courting. Had you not heard? We are also conducting a bit of business together, but that is of little consequence.”

  Emma wished to scream when Lucas gazed down at her, to tell him that she had been cornered into the agreement. She felt more the mouse than she had before, for her lips would not speak the words. What if he did not believe her? She would simply upset both men, and she would be left with nothing. No, she would keep silent.

  Lucas gave her a polite smile. “I was just going to say how much her dress is admired by a dear friend of mine.”

  Emma glanced over at Lady Babbitt in her green dress, who had her gaze fixed on Emma.

  “Oh, yes,” the baron replied. “I bought it for her. Speaking of business, why do we not speak of such things later; if you wish, of course.”

  “I am afraid I am quite busy, but perhaps another time.”

  In a moment of courage, Emma stood and went to speak, but the man turned and walked away to j
oin his group of friends, one who was smiling at him in much the same way Emma herself had on more than one occasion.

  “He is not worth my time,” Lord Miggs hissed as he watched the man walk away. “Come. It is time you met some of your new clients.”

  With heavy steps, Emma followed the baron, yet her heart and eyes returned to Lucas. If only she could turn time back to a fortnight ago. She would tell him exactly how she felt, and then perhaps they would not be where they were this night, which was to say, apart.

  ***

  As the storm outside intensified, so did the rage grow inside Lucas. Somehow, he had hoped that the rumors he had heard concerning Emma and Lord Miggs were untrue, that the only arrangement the two shared were related to business and nothing more. However, that was not to be the case, for the proud smile the baron presented and the new gown Emma wore—for she could not have purchased such an article of clothing herself—these two things told him all he needed to know: he had lost the woman forever.

  How he could lose such a prize to Lord Miggs baffled Lucas. Baffled and enraged him. He found himself wondering why she would choose such a man over him. The only answer that made sense was that what Ingrid had said was true; Emma was looking for a man of wealth to marry her. There was no other way to see it.

  Despite this truth, he could not help but study the woman from across the room. She had been left to sit alone in a chair, reminding Lucas of a child being disciplined. The baron was off with other men drinking and laughing, a common scene at events such as this. However, to leave such a woman alone for other men to approach was not common, not when she was spoken for, and Lucas wondered at the wisdom of such a man. More than one man had, in fact, approached Emma, but she had denied them all. Was there more to their relationship than what could be seen on the surface?

  Lucas debated whether it would be prudent to speak to Emma once more, but deep down, he knew it was futile. He could not deny the feelings he had for her, but images of his father flashed through his mind, the man chastising Lucas for being weak.

  “Those who are empathetic to others are the weakest,” he was wont to say. “For once you feel sorry for some ‘troubled soul’, you are pulled into whatever game he is playing. Then there is no one to blame but yourself for whatever losses you incur.”

  Despite his father’s counsel, Lucas could not help but feel a sense of loss.

  “The wine flows as freely as the gossip, and yet you remain alone,” Ingrid said as she came to stand beside Lucas.

  He looked at her and then at the other guests. What she said was true; he had no doubt that what they shared now with gusto had been promised to be kept secret not an hour earlier.

  “I remember now why I never left my home in the past,” Lucas said before taking a hefty drink from his glass. “Balls, parties, weddings, dinners. They are all the same, are they not?”

  “Intrigue me,” Ingrid requested with a raised eyebrow.

  “I find I enjoy being around few of these people,” Lucas explained. “The ones I do are already…otherwise occupied.” He looked at Emma as he spoke, and Ingrid seemed to follow his gaze.

  “I will not tell you what you already know,” she said. Then she grabbed his arm. “Come. Join me and converse with the masses.”

  Although he wished to be left alone to wallow in his own self-pity, he sighed and followed his friend. Perhaps the distraction of a conversation would help keep his mind off Emma. As they moved through the crowd, Lucas asked, “And Lord Tritant? Where is he this evening?”

  “Oh, he is off conducting some sort of business with Lord Miggs,” Ingrid replied of the man in whom she had taken some interest. “Apparently, the baron has joined forces with your Miss Barrington as her new partner.”

  “Yes, I heard the same,” Lucas replied. “And Lord Townsend? Has he caused you any problems?”

  Ingrid laughed. “None whatsoever. When I told him I was not interested, he turned his interests to Miss Henrietta Donovan. She seems smitten with him, and she is welcome to him, I say.”

  Lucas chuckled, but he found it difficult to concentrate on anything other than Emma. Something nagged at him. Emma had stated she was nearly out of debt, and yet she had taken on a business partner? And Lord Miggs to boot? She had a better business mind than to do such a thing. However, that was not what had him worried. She had also agreed to allow the man to court her, if the rumors were correct. If the former made little sense, the latter was incomprehensible.

  His doubts were interrupted, however, when Ingrid introduced him to a couple with whom she had a mild acquaintance. The conversation they had was polite, yet brief and boring. He found it difficult to keep his mind from returning to Emma, for the troublesome thoughts continued to plague him. He turned to where Emma sat alone in her chair, and when he brought his attention back to those around him, the couple was gone.

  “Lucas,” Ingrid whispered, her voice filled with concern. “You must go to her.”

  “I cannot.”

  Lord Tritant walked up and gave Lucas a nod. “Your Grace,” he said with a smile, “forgive my rudeness, but may I speak with the viscountess for a moment?”

  “Of course,” Lucas replied, glad for a moment of reprieve to deliberate the grand puzzle that made up this newfound relationship Emma and Lord Miggs shared. The more he thought on this riddle, the greater became his anger, and the more he realized the truth; he needed to speak to Emma.

  A group of men had gathered behind him, and he pushed his way through them to where he had last seen Emma, but the chair now sat empty. His heart sank as he glanced around the ballroom in search of her in the sea of people.

  “You, there,” Lucas called out to an older man with more hair in his mustaches than on the top of his head.

  “Yes, Your Grace?” the man asked. “It is an honor to be in your presence this fine evening…”

  Lucas had no time, or patience, to deal with this man, who was well-known to seek the good graces of those with wealth in order to grow his own. “Have you seen Lord Miggs?”

  The man shook his head, but the man beside him, a Lord Matthew Campbell if he remembered correctly, said, “He left not five minutes ago.”

  “Was he alone?” Lucas asked, attempting to hide his disappointment.

  “No. I believe a woman was in his company.”

  “Thank you,” Lucas said. He moved over to the refreshment table and picked up a new glass of wine. Perhaps this was a sign that he was to give up, that she did not need him after all.

  “Lucas!” Ingrid said as she hurried up to him. She wore a worried expression that made his heart pound.

  “What is it?”

  “Oh, Lucas, I was wrong,” she said as tears filled her eyes. “I was so wrong.”

  “What?” Lucas demanded. “Of what do you speak?”

  “The baron. He was bragging to Lord Tritant about blackmailing Miss Barrington!”

  “Blackmail?” Lucas asked. She was not of the ton; how could he blackmail her?

  Ingrid swallowed hard, clearly finding the telling distasteful. “There was talk of her father being dead. He threatened to expose her unless she agreed to allow him to court her as well as give him half her father’s business.”

  Bright light filled the room as lightning struck just outside the door to the garden, and a collective gasp resounded in the room. As if a reflection of the brewing storm, Lucas felt an anger that went well beyond anything he had ever felt. His temper had destroyed many things in his life, including giving Emma the opportunity to reach out to him.

  What a fool he had been thinking only of himself and not of the woman for whom he cared. His father had been wrong, there was no longer any doubt. Those who cared only for themselves were meant to end up like his father: bitter and alone.

  “Lucas?” Ingrid called out as he hurried away. “Where are you going?”

  “To get the woman I love!” he called back over his shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The carri
age jostled by the wind scared Emma almost as much as the drunken baron who sat beside her on the cushioned seat. After sitting alone for nearly three hours while Lord Miggs drank and made merry, she was relieved when he said they would be leaving. Few came near her the entire night, besides the short encounter with Lucas, of course. How fortunate that she had not been expected to make small talk with people who looked at her like she was some sort of paltry insect they had found in the bedroom corner.

  Now, Lord Miggs rambled on beside her as the storm continued to rage outside. “Four new accounts agreed out of the six,” he slurred with a laugh. “Did I not tell you I would secure them?” He stared at her with reddened eyes, and his breath reeked of liquor.

  “Yes, My Lord,” Emma murmured, ignoring the man’s leers. “Although, I wish that perhaps next time I might be able to discuss the matters with you beforehand?”

  The baron gave a hearty laugh as the carriage hit a hole in the road, causing him to fall against her. Or rather he used it as an excuse to move in closer to her. He pulled his arm onto the bench behind her and pressed his leg against hers.

  “You are to work in the office, since you are the one who has the experience with the bookkeeping,” he said. “Leave the business to me. After all, I must do my part to earn my half of what the business acquires.”

  Emma stifled a sigh. It was not only the deal he had forced upon her that frustrated her at the moment. The man had also ruined the opportunity to speak to Lucas at the party. The chances of seeing him again were low, and that hurt worse than all the rest that had gone wrong in her life combined.