“I think I should be most content to sit here on this terrace and read and contemplate.”
“But not sew.” Hunter smiled, and she was strangely flattered that he had remembered. Flattered that he had paid such close attention when they had spoken of her own choice of diversions.
“No, I should never choose sewing over reading I am afraid.” Emmeline smiled and felt suddenly a little shy.
“Well, I am glad to hear it,” he said and rose to his feet. “If you would excuse me for just a moment.” Hunter turned and made his way back into the drawing room through the open French windows.
He returned in a heartbeat brandishing a parcel wrapped in very plain brown paper.
“I do hope you will forgive the wrapping. I ought to have chosen something a little less utilitarian, but I am afraid I am only used to purchasing books for myself.” He handed her the parcel.
“This is for me?” Emmeline said and smiled uncertainly.
“Yes, I had an idea the other day that I should like to buy you a gift. A small memento of our engagement. I am afraid that my timing is far from superior, and I ought really to have given it to you on the day. I hope you do not mind.”
“Of course I do not mind, Hunter,” Emmeline said and began to carefully unwrap the book. “I had not expected a gift at all, really I had not.”
Emmeline unwrapped the book and studied it. It was another volume by Sir Walter Scott, Rob Roy, a book that she had never thought to purchase for herself.
“Rob Roy? Good heavens, I really must thank you, Hunter.” The idea that Hunter had bought her a book that had far more adventure and far less romance was strangely flattering.
In fact, the idea that he had bought her such a book was encouraging in that she realized that she would never have her enquiring mind shut away by her husband when she was finally married. Indeed, he seemed now like the sort of man who would actively encourage her own taste, rather than expecting her to conform to the somewhat duller ideals of the day. And so it was that she found the giving of such an unromantic book a very romantic gesture indeed.
“I do hope you like it. In truth, I rather suspected that you might, given your previous reading. There is less romance than there is in Ivanhoe, but there is a little; just a little. But there is great adventure and travels to the North of England and Scotland in the middle of a Jacobite rebellion. But I shall not give too much away, I do not wish to spoil it for you.” As he smiled at her, he looked a little pensive, and she wondered if he was concerned to have her approval on the gift.
And from his words, it was obvious to her that he had put a good deal of thought into the matter, buying her something that would be more in keeping with her personality than anything else he could have bought for her. Once again, she felt her love for him swell ever greater.
“I cannot tell you how excited I am to read it. I must admit to adoring Ivanhoe and its adventures, and if this looks set to be even more adventurous, then I think I shall like it even better. Thank you, Hunter, really.” She smiled at him, staring into his dark, golden flecked eyes for several moments.
He smiled back at her, his teeth neat and white against the darkness of his neatly trimmed black beard and tanned skin. His eyes held hers with equal intensity, and Emmeline felt as if she were falling through the air, weightless and breathless, wondering what would happen next.
The spell was suddenly broken by the sound of laughter drifting up from the lake, and they both looked to see Algernon Rochester gesticulating wildly as he seemed to be describing yet another ludicrous scheme for celebrating the upcoming wedding.
Chapter 24
Emmeline’s mother and sister had gone down into the town to the haberdashery shop to look at samples of fabric for her wedding gown. Emmeline would have gone with them had she not already seen those same samples seven or eight times over. She had already chosen the fabric and lace, and it had been ordered, but now that it had arrived, Constance Fitzgerald had been excited to set off immediately they had received word.
“Are you quite sure you do not want to come with us, my dear?” Constance seemed entirely surprised that her daughter would choose to stay behind.
“Mama, you are only collecting the fabric and lace.” Emmeline laughed. “And I had really wanted a little time alone to continue to read my book. I cannot tell you how absorbing it is.”
“Really, that you can read amidst all the excitement around your wedding gown astounds me,” Constance said shaking her head. “I know that you are not as romantic as me, my dear, but surely this is extreme even for you.”
“But the book is every bit as exciting as Hunter said it would be,” Emmeline complained.
“Oh, it is the book that Hunter bought for you,” Constance said, instantly approving of her daughter’s choice of occupation now that she knew it had some link to her future husband. “Well, I suppose there is a little romance in you after all.”
Emmeline decided not to tell her mother that the book was anything but romantic in content at least. If she had any idea of the Highlanders and Jacobite rebellions it contained, she would undoubtedly suffer as she had done at Lady Harbury’s unfortunate choice of reading matter.
“Perhaps there is, Mama.” Emmeline thought it best to agree.
“Well, as long as you do not mind, I thought that Rose and I could speak with seamstress and discuss her visit here for all the measurements.”
“I do not mind at all, Mama. I am very grateful, in fact.”
It had taken a little doing, but eventually, her mother and sister were out of the house and on their way to town. Suddenly Tarlton Manor seemed so peaceful, and Emmeline sat in the drawing room, the book open on her lap, as she stared contentedly into space.
Ever since Hunter had given her the gift, she had found herself unable to stop thinking of him. Her mind contained scenario after scenario, all of them imagined and completely romantic. If only her mother had realized what a truly romantic heart she had, she would have been greatly relieved.
But Emmeline could not be entirely relieved herself, knowing that she was imagining love and life with a man who might never really love her. It was true that there was great sympathy between them, certainly in terms of manners and intellect, not to mention interests. But was that really everything? Was that enough to sustain them for the rest of their lives if Hunter never loved her in return? Never loved her as she loved him.
“Good morning, Miss Fitzgerald.” When the door to the drawing room opened to reveal none other than the Duchess of Galcross, Emmeline gasped.
“But …?” Emmeline looked around for any sign of one of the household servants but could see none.
“Please, do not concern yourself that I have shown myself in. I do not mind at all.” Felicity Burton smiled at her, but it was not a friendly smile, rather a spiteful one.
“Forgive me, but is there something that I can do for you, Your Grace?” Emmeline regained her senses just in time to be outraged by such an intrusion.
How dare anybody, even a Duchess, walk straight into her home, straight into her drawing room, without first being announced? It was rudeness of the first order, and Emmeline felt herself becoming ready to tell the woman just that.
However, as the Duchess stood regarding her coolly, her bright blue eyes seeming cold and almost hateful, Emmeline realized she suddenly lacked the courage.
“I can see that you are a little dismayed by my sudden appearance, Miss Fitzgerald; perhaps you would like me to give you a moment to compose yourself?” Felicity smirked at her in a self-satisfied manner.
“No, I do not need any time to compose myself,” Emmeline said defiantly, keen to have this woman know that she would not be upended by her sudden appearance. “It is obvious to me that you have something to say, and I beg you would just say it and leave.”
“Well, well, well,” Felicity said and laughed. “And there was I thinking that you did not have a backbone at all.”
“I cannot imagine why you would think that Your G
race, for you and I are not acquainted. If we were, then you would not have said such a thing.”
“Please do not imagine for a moment that I am put off by your little outburst,” Felicity said as if Emmeline’s words were as nothing to her. “But I will, as you suggest, say what I came here to say.”
The Duchess of Galcross made her way further into the room and sat down on one of the couches without invitation. She looked around slowly, coldly surveying all the appointments of what she probably thought a very poor little drawing room. Her look of displeasure was clear, and it was a look which she finally turned upon Emmeline herself, looking her up and down from head to toe as if surveying her along with the furniture.
“Well?” Emmeline said, sitting down in the armchair opposite.
“Sir Walter Scott,” Felicity said slowly as she surveyed the now closed book which Emmeline had placed on the low table. “What dreadfully dreary taste you do have.”
“And how very rude you are,” Emmeline retorted. “Although I daresay you are not here to discuss my literary tastes.”
“I suppose that Hunter gave you that dull little volume.” The Duchess kept her eyes on the book, and Emmeline thought she could sense a little jealousy in her countenance.
“Yes, Hunter did give me the book as a gift, but again, I am sure that is not why you are here.” Emmeline felt a little victory when she saw how her words had touched a nerve with the haughty Duchess. She obviously felt a stab of jealousy to think that he had bought her such a gift.
It was probably very clear to the Duchess that Hunter had given a gift of something that was close to his own heart. Doubting that Felicity Burton read such involved novels, if she read at all, gave Emmeline the impression that she had a closeness in certain areas with Hunter that his former love had not.
“No, but I am here about Hunter. Hunter and this ridiculous little engagement of yours.”
“The engagement is not ridiculous to me, and I am certain that it is not ridiculous to Hunter either.”
“But it is, nonetheless, ridiculous,” Felicity said in a languid tone which Emmeline felt was designed to belittle her as if she was beneath the woman’s notice.
“And what have you to say about the engagement, other than your skewed perception of it?”
“That I want you to put an end to it,” Felicity said so matter-of-factly that Emmeline had at first thought she had heard her incorrectly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I think you heard me perfectly well the first time. I have come here today to tell you to put an end to this engagement. You have no business marrying the Earl of Addison, Miss Fitzgerald, and I think you know that.”
“I would beg that you leave now, Your Grace. Much apart from being an uninvited and most unwelcome visitor in my home, your demands are insulting.”
“I will not be leaving until I have your answer.”
“You have my answer.” Emmeline began to rise to her feet.
“He does not love you, my dear girl,” Felicity spoke in a condescending tone, and now it was Emmeline’s turn to be upended. “I can see in your eyes that you know it is true.”
“It is none of your business.”
“But you cannot tell me that he loves you because he has not told you such a thing.” Felicity smiled her cold, cruel smile, and Emmeline felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Has he?”
“It is none of your business,” Emmeline repeated, unable to think of anything else to say.
“So, you know it is true. And I am sure you are perfectly well aware that Hunter is still in love with me. He has always loved me, and he always shall. Is that what you really want? A life spent loving a man who can never love you in return? You do love him, do you not?”
“It is …”
“None of my business, yes, I know.” Felicity flapped her hand as if to bat away Emmeline’s inconsequential words. “I can see now that you love him, and I pity you, really I do.”
“I do not need your pity,” Emmeline said angrily, although she had sat back down in her chair and continued to listen.
“I think you do, my dear. In truth, I can hardly bear to think of it.” Felicity paused for a moment to distractedly study her crisp white gloves. “Really, I can hardly bear to imagine you pining for a man who lays at your side. Inches away from you and yet, in truth, so far away that he can hardly see you. So far away that in his dreams it is me who lays beside him and not you.”
“I will not listen to such talk. You go too far, Your Grace.” Emmeline was furious.
“I can see that you are not going to comply with my demands.”
“That is the first thing that you have been right about since you came in without invitation. I shall not comply with your demands, as you put them, and shall bid you good day.” Emmelinerose to her feet and walked towards the drawing room door, pulling it sharply open towards her.
When she saw none other than Kent Fitzgerald standing on the other side, she almost screamed. She had not expected him to be there for a moment, and as her mouth fell open, he strode into the room past her and closed the door, barring her way.
“Mr Fitzgerald, have you just arrived?” Emmeline said, her mind practically whirling with confusion.
“No, I arrived with the Duchess,” he said, giving a smile that was so calculating it almost rivalled Felicity’s.
“I am afraid I do not understand,” Emmeline said, feeling suddenly afraid.
There was something in her cousin’s eyes, something that she had only ever seen a suggestion of before. But it was there now, there in full force. The man was quite unhinged, she was sure of it, and his eyes held such cruelty that she felt cold from head to foot.
“I had said to you all along that it would be much simpler if you married me. You get to remain here at Tarlton, as would your mother and sister. Furthermore, the Duchess of Galcross and the Earl of Addison would finally be together, just as the Lord intended them to be.”
“You speak for the Lord now, do you?” Emmeline said and immediately regretted her sarcasm when he took a step towards her and let her see that he was holding a Baker rifle.
He held the rifle at his side, leaning it gently against his leg. Emmeline gasped again, realizing now that she was in very real danger.
“But why? Why have you come here with a rifle?” Emmeline was about to fill her lungs ready to scream when her cousin held up his hand.
“I have already checked, and your servants are on the other side of the house. They are all busy, and none of them saw us approach. None of them shall see us leave either.”
“I am not leaving with you, Mr Fitzgerald.” Emmeline said, her voice giving her away, clearly displaying her fear.
“Yes, you are leaving with me. You have been given a choice, not only by me but by the Duchess herself. You are the one who has chosen not to take it, and if you attempt to create a fuss of any kind, then I should tell you that I am not afraid to use this.” He cast his eyes down towards the rifle at his side.
“Then I shall call off my engagement. I shall break it this day, I promise,” Emmeline said, desperate that she should at least remain in her home and safe.
“No, I do not think you can believe a word she says,” Felicity said, rising slowly to her feet, her demeanour most relaxed given the circumstances. “I think it is time that you take her with you.”
“You are quite right, Your Grace. I have certainly been far too lenient and accommodating these last weeks when I ought to have been anything but.”
“Lenient? Accommodating?” Emmeline was suddenly furious. “Again, you talk as if you have some control over me, and you do not. You have never had control over me, and you never shall.” At the moment that she once again filled her lungs to scream, her cousin struck her hard on the side of the head with the butt of the rifle.
Before the sound had escaped her lips, the pain shot through her, and her world turned black.
Chapter 25
Hunter had tak
en to horseback, deeming it somewhat quicker than having his carriage made ready. Furthermore, he could go across country and cover the few short miles between Addison Hall and Tarlton Manor in half the time.
Quite why he was rushing, he could not really tell. After all, it seemed very likely to him that Emmeline had chosen to leave. Still, he could not leave her sister and mother wondering and worrying, desperate to know where it was she had gone to. As far as he was aware, they had no immediate family, barring the dreadful Kent Fitzgerald, and so her options were limited as far as suitable lodgings were concerned.
And yet he knew he was not simply rushing on account of Constance and Rose Fitzgerald. He was rushing on his own account, desperate to know what had become of the woman he loved so dearly. When he had first received the hurriedly written note that Rose Fitzgerald had sent him that morning, Hunter had been unable to believe what he was reading. In truth, he had thought that the two of them had found even more common ground of late, overcoming the somewhat rocky path they had followed through the Duke’s funeral and the curious proposal of marriage Emmeline had received from her cousin but failed to disclose to him. It seemed as if they had turned a corner into a brighter day, and there was hope for them both, even hope that she would one day come to love him as he loved her.
Rose had written to tell him that Emmeline had been missing overnight, that she had been gone from the house when they had returned from a trip into town to the haberdashery. At first, they had thought her to be out walking, but as night had fallen, they had come to realize that it was something a little more serious than a walk. Rose had begged that he would attend at his earliest opportunity and do what he could to help them find her.
Hunter liked Rose and Constance very much and could hardly bear to think of what they had suffered overnight wondering where their beloved Emmeline had gone.
But he could not help thinking that she was perfectly safe, even if he did not like the idea that she was gone. Hunter could only think that she had either thought better of it, realizing that her love for Christopher Lennox was too great for her to entertain the thought of marrying another man, or that she had finally decided that she could not bear to leave Tarlton Manor and had chosen to settle for Kent Fitzgerald instead of him.
A Bride for the Betrayed Earl Page 18