by Alec, Joyce
“I am truly sorry that he hurt you, Helen,” she whispered, dabbing at her eyes ineffectually. “I did not mean for that to occur.”
“But I am quite all right, am I not?” Helen asked, sounding a good deal brighter than Emily had expected. “I am not hurt, save for a small pain in my shoulder, and whilst I will confess that I was shocked and afraid at times, it is all at an end now. There is nothing to be afraid of any longer, is there?” Her hand squeezed Emily’s gently. “I find that I am glad for you about that.”
Emily sobbed for a good long while, letting out every single fear and worry as she did so. She cried with relief and with gladness, hearing Helen murmuring comforting words and with Lady Millington patting her shoulder gently. It was at an end. Somehow, she knew that Lord Franks would not be a danger to her again. She still had her maid to deal with, but without Lord Franks present, Sarah herself was not a danger. She could return to her life with her father, enjoying every moment of her freedom without ever having to be afraid again.
“There you go,” Lady Millington said quietly, a smile on her face as Emily’s tears slowly abated. “Now, why do you not take a sip of your brandy? The tea tray should be here soon, and you will want a steaming hot cup too, I am quite sure.”
Doing as Lady Millington had asked, Emily took a small sip of her brandy and let the fiery liquid burn down her throat and through her limbs. It made her gasp whilst giving her a strength she had not expected.
“There, you see?” Lady Millington continued, her smile spreading all the more. “Wonderful stuff, is it not? Besides which, you will need your strength to speak to Lord Brighton and Lord Pallson when they return. I am quite sure they will be just as proud of you as I am.”
“Proud of me?” Emily asked softly. “Why?”
Lady Millington’s expression softened. “My dear, you were the one who struck Lord Franks with the coal shovel! I confess I was more than astonished at your quick action but so was Lord Franks! The look on his face was one of utter shock, and it worked marvelously well, did it not?” She glanced at Miss Martin, who herself was smiling. “You saved Miss Martin from his clutches and prevented him from getting a hold of your diamonds. All in all, my dear girl, you have done marvelously well, and I am quite sure that Lord Pallson will think much the same as I.”
“Indeed he will.”
Emily turned her head at once to see Lord Pallson standing framed in the doorway with Lord Brighton just behind him. He was smiling at her, an expression of relief etched onto his face as he walked inside.
“You did excellently, my dear,” he continued, walking to stand closer to them all. “Helen, are you quite all right?”
Helen smiled, lifting her shoulder slightly. “An ache but nothing more. I have heard everything from Lady Millington, and I quite understand it all. Lady Emily saved me from Lord Franks, and for that, I shall always be very grateful.”
Lord Pallson’s smile grew warm. “You astonished me considerably, my dear,” he murmured, taking Emily’s cold hand in his warm one. “But I confess that I do not think that anything else would have worked. Lord Franks was expecting me to react, or perhaps Lord Brighton, but he did not for one moment think that you would wield something like the coal shovel!” He chuckled softly, bowing over her hand and kissing it. “It is all at an end now, my dear Lady Emily. You are quite safe. Your father can return from hiding, and you will both be able to go home.”
“I--I do not know where my father is,” she stammered, her happiness suddenly dying away. “I–?”
“I do,” Lady Millington interrupted, a slightly abashed look on her face. “Forgive me for keeping this from you, my dear, but I have always known where your father has gone to. It was known to me since the day your father planned for such an event. He sent you to me and went to one of my late husband’s small holdings. A cottage near the coast. I have the address. In fact, we may go visit him if you would wish it, my dear. It might be best, given that there is so much to explain.”
Emily felt her lips curve into a smile of relief, slumping into her chair as Lord Pallson let go of her hand in order to allow the tea trays to be served. She did not feel any sort of anger towards Lady Millington for keeping such a thing from her, understanding at once why she had been required to do so. The thought of being back with her father, with having him at home and continuing their lives together made her happier than she had ever thought possible.
“And I do hope you will allow me to come and call on you, once you are happy and settled,” Lord Pallson murmured, as Lord Brighton began to talk in excited tones with Lady Millington. “I would very much like to be introduced to your father.”
The hope in his words had her breath catching. She knew very well what it was he wanted, what it was he wished to ask in meeting her father, and she knew all too well that she would never refuse Lord Pallson when the time came for him to ask.
“Thank you, Lord Pallson,” she replied softly. “I think that a wonderful idea.” A small frown captured some of her smile. “But what of Lord Franks? What is to occur with him?”
Miss Martin leaned forward. “Indeed, what is to become of him? What is to prevent him from pursuing the diamonds and Lady Emily again?”
Lord Pallson grimaced. “As he is nobility, the law will be loath to go after him. However, I ensured that his name is now thoroughly disgraced, for we deliberately walked him into the drawing room.” A small, angry smile tugged at his lips. “Lord Brighton made a very loud announcement that the rest of their guests, for their own safety, were to stay well away from Lord Franks. He will say more at breakfast tomorrow morning. Lord Franks will not have a reputation to speak of once he returns to London.”
“London?” Emily repeated, a little concerned. “Why would he return there?”
Lord Pallson’s expression was a little triumphant. “Lord Franks’ father currently resides in London for the Season. I believe he has a daughter that is currently out. I would wager that he knows nothing of this.”
Emily nodded slowly. “You intend to tell him, I presume?”
A small shrug lifted Lord Pallson’s shoulder, and he winced, rubbing at his arm for a moment. “It will be flying around London by the time I return there, I am quite sure, but I will of ensure that the facts are known. As you may not be aware, Lord Franks has not regained his full title, for he is only an earl—and then one day he will be a marquess. I am quite sure his father, the Marquess of Winton, will have a good deal to say about his son’s behavior. I know that the Marquess of Winton has holdings overseas. I intend to suggest that Lord Franks should be sent there for a duration.”
Feeling a good deal more settled at this news, Emily managed a small smile. “I see. That is a well-thought-out plan, Lord Pallson.”
“Of course, I intend to be a part of your life long after Lord Franks returns to take his title of Marquess of Winton,” he finished tenderly. “You will not be alone or without help, should anything untoward occur.”
Their eyes locked, and she felt her heart quickening in her chest.
“Whatever is wrong with your shoulder, Lord Pallson?” Helen asked, breaking the moment. “Did Lord Franks injure you?”
Lord Pallson gave her a wry smile. “His dagger caught me, I am afraid but–” He held up one hand, stemming the flow of expressions of concern from both Helen and Emily’s lips. “But I am quite at my ease, I assure you. It was a graze only. Thanks to Lady Emily’s quick thinking, Lord Franks was not in the least bit prepared.” Bowing low, he took her hand again and drew her to her feet. Quite uncaring about the others who were present, he led her away towards the darker part of the library, ensuring that they were as alone as they could be.
And then, he drew her into his arms, holding her tightly as she melted into him. The steady beat of his heart steadied her, feeling him just as strong and as reassuring as ever. Emily clung to him tightly, her arms around his neck as she let out her breath, feeling as though she were breathing out the last of her fears.
> “You were marvelous, my love,” Lord Pallson murmured in her ear. “Truly marvelous. I should never have even suggested that you hide yourself away. I should never even have thought that you would be willing to do such a thing.” He looked down at her, lifting her chin with one gentle finger. “You have such strength in you, Lady Emily, that it quite takes my breath away.”
She could not speak, could not move. All she could do was look up into his face and see the love that was resting in his eyes. She felt it resound in her own heart, her lips parting of their own accord as he leaned down to kiss her softly. They stood there together, wrapped in the shadows and entirely lost in one another.
Epilogue
Three months later
“And how do you find my father?”
Emily looked up, her lips quirking as Lord Pallson let out a long breath, his eyes twinkling as he looked back at her. They were taking a small stroll around the gardens of the Rawson estate and leaving Miss Martin, Lady Millington, and the Marquess talking together in the drawing room.
“He is a somewhat fierce character, I think,” Lord Pallson replied with a slight lift of his brow. “But I am glad that he has not rejected me outright.”
Emily laughed aloud. “How could he, now that he knows what you have done for me? Truly, Lord Pallson, you are being quite foolish.”
Lord Pallson chuckled and offered her his arm, which she took at once. They smiled at one another for a moment, their mirth suddenly changing to something a good deal more intense.
“It is very good to be back with you again,” Lord Pallson murmured gently. “I have missed your company.”
“And I yours,” she replied truthfully. “It has been very pleasant to be able to return home safely with my father, but I have thought of you very often.” She caught his gaze for a moment, before turning her eyes back to the path ahead. “Everything is quite settled with Lord Franks?”
Lord Pallson’s eyes darkened for a moment. “Yes, quite settled. He is gone abroad, with his father’s blessing.” He lifted his brows so that she could not mistake his meaning. “I believe he was to write to you. The Marquess of Winton, I mean.”
Emily nodded slowly, remembering the note she had received from the marquess begging her forgiveness for the sins of his son, Lord Franks. “Yes, I have received it. It was very much appreciated by both myself and my father, although both of us believe that Lord Winton is not to blame in any way.”
“He is a father wishing to do what he can to make amends for his son,” Lord Pallson said sadly. “It will be some years before Lord Franks can return home. You have nothing to fear any longer, my love.” He tipped his head. “What of your maid, Sarah? Last I heard, she was nowhere to be found.”
Emily’s lips curved down. “Indeed. When we were residing with Lord Brighton, she must have overheard the news that Lord Franks had been captured. I have not seen her since.” Part of her was angry that her maid had managed to escape without any consequence, but she had been attempting to push such anger away over the last few months. There was nothing she could do in order to try and find Sarah, and she was certain that the maid could not harm her in any way.
“You have such a strength about you, Lady Emily,” Lord Pallson murmured, shaking his head in astonishment. “You quite overwhelm me.”
The tender expression had her heart quickening. “Thank you for all you have done, Lord Pallson.”
“And for what you have done with Helen,” he said grandly. “You have heard, I am sure, that she is to be Lady Winchester within a few months.”
Emily chuckled, recalling the letter she had received from Helen that had been filled with wondrous delight at the fact that she had found herself so wonderful a suitor. “Yes, I was aware and am very glad for her. Lady Millington is to wed Lord Brighton, although that is not as well known amongst the ton.” She laughed at Lord Pallson’s astonished expression, seeing that he had not been aware of it at all.
“Then I wish them every happiness in the world,” he murmured, stopping for a moment and catching her hands so that she had to turn to face him. “And you, Lady Emily? What of your own happiness?”
Her heart was beating so quickly she was sure he could not be unaware of it. Her hands were warm in his, her eyes filled with nothing but him. “I am happy, my lord, now that you are here.” Her voice was soft, her lips trembling just a little at the intensity in his eyes.
“But I am not,” Lord Pallson said gently, his hands pressing hers for a moment. “I cannot be happy unless I am with you, Lady Emily. I have missed you terribly these last few months. The absence has been almost unbearable. My every waking moment has been filled with thoughts of you.” Drawing in a breath, he closed his eyes for a moment before looking down at her again, hope blazing in his eyes. “Will you marry me, my love? I love none but you. I desire none but you. Will you be my wife? Will you allow me to cherish you, to love you, to show you just how much you have come to mean to me?”
She laughed softly, resting her hand gently against his cheek and marveling at the warmth in his eyes. “I have been waiting for you to ask me, Lord Pallson. Yes, of course, I will marry you. I confess to you now that I have loved you ever long, and that my love continues to burn each and every day.”
He sighed with happiness, closing his eyes as he crushed her to him. She went willingly, letting him hold her close just as he had done so many times before. His lips met hers in a fierce kiss, and she gave herself up to it, feeling the hints of passion and knowing that this man, this wonderful, courageous man, loved her with all of his heart. She was free now, free of the fear and the terror that had held her for so long. Free to give him her heart, bursting with love and tenderness that was all for him.
“I love you, Lady Emily,” he murmured, his breath whispering across her cheek.
“And I you, Lord Pallson,” she replied, before reaching to kiss him again.
* * *
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Text Copyright © 2019 by Joyce Alec
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First printing, 2019
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Prologue
Nineteenth Century, England
“And do you find this man guilty?”
Thomas, Viscount Sharpe, stiffened, hardly hearing the pronouncement as it was read out. The man in the dock was someone he’d once considered a friend. It took a great deal for the son of a baron to be found guilty of a crime, even though Francis Newton was the second son and therefore not due any particular title at all – and such was the solemnity of the moment that the whole courthouse fell quiet.
It was over in a moment. The whole courthouse burst with noise, leaving Thomas feeling both nauseated and weak. It seemed that Francis was to be spared the gallows, even though he was considered to be the murderer. The court did not want to hang a son of a baron, it seemed. However, along with this, and for his other crimes, Francis was to be incarcerated for a period of time. Thomas let out a small breath of relief, holding onto whatever he could fin
d for support. The shame of it would be enough to render Francis incapable of ever returning to society, but at least he would not lose his life.
“I protest!”
Thomas froze as the sound of Francis’s voice took over the air, leaving the courthouse frozen in silence for a moment. Every eye turned towards the man, who had turned towards them all, evidently garnering their attention.
“I protest,” Francis said again, his eyes roving across the crowd who had gathered to witness this. “I am not guilty of a single one of these crimes. I am not a murderer. I have been used by another to bear the blame for these sins.”
“Please, sir, do be silent,” the magistrate said, sounding a little concerned that there might soon be a riot on his hands. “The judgement has been read out.”
“The judgement is wrong!” Francis Newton shouted, turning around to face the magistrate again. “I am not guilty. I will not bear this shame, I will not have my family left to bear this burden of guilt.”
Thomas froze in place, as Francis turned around again, catching Thomas’s eye. Had Francis known that Thomas would be there? Had he been looking for him for some reason?
“My friend.”
Thomas swallowed hard, remembering the days when both he and Francis had enjoyed all that London society had to offer. They had attended balls together, talked almost constantly about what ladies they had danced with or conversed with, played cards, spent time in White’s – and never once had Thomas suspected that Francis was taking part in any sort of underhand activities.
“I know that you do not understand,” Francis continued quietly. “But I swear to you that I am not a guilty man.”