Earls Errand

by Monroe, Jennifer

  They entered into the foyer and walked down the short hall to the ballroom. “Now, let me know you think,” he said as the door opened.

  Rachel stopped, her heart stopping as she gaped openly at the magnificent room before her. He had refused to allow her to see the room until the day of the party, making some silly statement that it was his house until the day they were married, so he would see to its arrangement. She had made him promise to take into account the hard work she and his mother had put into their planning, and as she looked around the room, she saw that he had.

  Arched windows lined three sides of the large rectangular room and six small chandeliers hung from the ceiling, three on each side. A raised platform sat at the far end of the room where a group of musicians was tuning their instruments in discordant plucks that she knew would become beautiful chords of music once the party began. The lemon-colored walls reflected the light quite well, making the room bright and airy. Tables lined either wall and servants in their finest livery rushed about readying the space for the guests who would begin arriving soon. It was a beautiful space in which to celebrate.

  “This is all for you,” he said as he looked down at her, a pleased look on his face. “I do hope you like it.”

  Rachel wiped away at a tear as she turned toward him. “It is more than I could have ever imagined,” she said truthfully. “Thank you.” What she wished to do was spin around in the middle of the room, but she quickly dismissed such a notion. She had learned that there were times, in private of course, when she could do such things, but she was now a lady and would no longer act in such a fashion while others were around.

  As she continued her perusal of the room, she realized that something, or rather someone, was missing. “And your mother?” she asked.

  Lord Linfield let out a small laugh. “She has ‘taken ill’ and is lying down. However, I have a strong suspicion a miraculous recovery will emerge tonight as she tells everyone of the tales of woe she has had to endure over the past week. I do not envy the one who must be forced to listen to such tales.”

  Rachel stifled her laughter, once again concluding it would be more prudent to keep from agreeing aloud with these statements about his mother.

  The sound of a carriage made her turn toward a window that faced the front of the house. “It seems our first guest has arrived,” she said. “I wonder who it is.” However, she knew so few of the people on the guest list, even if the person was named, she would not know them.

  Lord Linfield, however, chuckled. “You will know soon enough. Once the first arrives, then it seems everyone comes at once.” And true to his words, a second and third carriage pulled up behind the first.

  At the appointed time—Rachel was certain Lord Linfield was more than pleased at the punctuality—Henry came to the door, a low murmur sounding behind him as the guests began to gather in the foyer, arranging themselves by rank. Rachel stood beside the Earl, ready to greet their guests. The first chords of a song resounded quietly in the room.

  “His Grace the Duke of Elmberly and Her Grace the Duchess of Elmberly,” Henry said in a loud, clear voice. An elderly couple waiting in the doorway entered the room and walked over to Lord Linfield.

  “Linfield,” the Duke said, his voice shaking with age, “it is about time you found yourself a wife.” His coat had an outdated look, though it did not look old itself, and he wore a powdered wig on his head. He turned to Rachel. “And a beautiful one at that,” he added with a roguish smile.

  The Duchess, who wore a purple velvet gown with white lace up her neck and sleeves that touched the tops of her hands, wore a wig in an elaborate chignon with a single curl that hung over her shoulder. She did not seem to mind as she waited for Lord Linfield to greet her. “I must agree with my husband,” she said in a firmer voice than the man beside her. “You are quite lovely.”

  Rachel blushed profusely and dipped into a curtsy. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said as if she had been saying such words her entire life. “I do hope you enjoy your time with us.”

  And with that, the couple moved into the ballroom and found a table close to the front of the room. Rachel heard “close to the musicians” and “hearing is not what it used to be” as they walked away.

  Each name was announced and each person congratulated Lord Linfield and Rachel on their upcoming nuptials. All evinced a pleasant demeanor, but for Rachel, it was easy to recognize those who wore a facade. She had to remind herself that not all of these people were her friends, nor were they meant to be. They were her guests and she would be agreeable for the evening and then they would return to their homes where she would not have to have a second thought about them.

  What seemed an endless line of guests greeted Rachel and Lord Linfield, and when the final guest was greeted, Rachel heaved a sigh of relief. The introductions had taken longer than she could have ever imagined, but they went off without a problem, for which Rachel felt a great deal of pride. Now came the next step: playing the hostess. Rachel hoped she had learned enough to make her guests happy.

  However, as she caught Lord Linfield smiling at her, she knew she would be successful of anything she put her mind to as long as she had him by her side.

  ***

  Joseph raised a glass, toasting one of his closest business associates and friend, Lord Peter Young, Earl of Opelsturn. The party had been on for hours, many of the guests staggering under the amount of alcohol they had consumed, and the sounds of laughter and chatter had risen as the bottles of brandy and wine had fallen. The suggestion Miss Cooper had made to serve the better wine at the beginning had been a great success; as people became more inebriated, they paid less attention to how the liquor tasted, so their only true memory had been of the extravagance of his tastes.

  Never having felt such happiness, Joseph found himself laughing freely and enjoying the night. He had come to realize how much time he had wasted in his attempts at building his wealth and power. What he had found, instead, was a contentment, and as he glanced over at the lovely, dark-haired woman in the blue dress that matched her eyes, he had her to thank for this realization. For it was Miss Cooper who had persisted with him, even when he spoke cruelly to her and demeaned her. The woman was strong, with a fire in her that made her all that more desirable. It was for that reason he had fallen in love with her.

  He had never considered love before the woman had come into his life. The only thought he had for obtaining a wife was for one who would be a suitable mate who would produce an heir. However, now that he had experienced such a wonderful emotion, he never wished to lose it and would do anything to keep it.

  Joseph smiled at his fiancée, who stood across the room speaking to a pair of ladies, and by their smiles, she was doing a wonderful job of keeping them entertained.

  “I do say, my friend,” Young said, “you are quite taken with her, aren’t you?”

  “It would not serve me well to lie to you,” Joseph said without taking his eyes off Miss Cooper. “Her beauty and grace are captivating. I never understood why you were so smitten with Lady Jane, but now I believe I do.”

  Young smiled and both men took a drink of their brandy. Then, hearing a round of laughter, Joseph turned to where the Duke of Bottleshire stood in a small cluster of other older gentlemen.

  “I will return in a moment,” Joseph said to his friend. “It would be best if I go speak with him now.” He wished to know if the man was still angry after the debacle that occurred during the tea the Duchess had given several weeks earlier.

  Young caught Joseph by the arm. “Approach with caution. The man’s temper is as wild as his wife’s tongue with gossip.”

  Joseph shot his friend a quick smile to assure him he knew he might be walking into a viper’s den. “I will be careful,” he replied. He weaved his way through groups of guests and then walked to stand beside the Duke.

  “Linfield,” the Duke said in a slurred voice, “Truly this is one of the grandest parties I have ever attended. And your choice
of wine was brilliant.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Joseph replied. “I am glad to see you enjoying the affair. And your wife? Is she enjoying the party, as well?”

  “Esther is fine,” the man said. “But there is no need to concern ourselves about the women.” He gulped down the rest of his wine, half a glass all at once, and reached for another as a footman walked past carrying a tray. “We need to discuss the properties in London, and what a better time than now?”

  Joseph wished only to pummel the man; it could not have been the most inopportune time if he had been in his nightshirt and readying himself for bed. Talking business would only diminish the joy he held this night. “Of course, Your Grace, but do you not believe we should wait? It is my engagement party, after all.” He found himself holding his breath as he waited for the man’s response. On every other occasion he had asked to put the Duke off one discussion or another throughout the time he had done business with him, the man had erupted in a rain of expletives that would have curled the toes of the lowest of sailors. He was not one who allowed anyone to challenge him when he had made a decision, even one as small as this.

  However, rather than exploding, the Duke said, “Of course not. It is your engagement party! There is no need to talk business on such a night. Come by my house next Tuesday, my friend, and we’ll speak then.” Then, much to Joseph’s surprise, the man clapped Joseph on the back.

  Confidence surged through Joseph. He had stood his ground against a man who could take his business to another and leave Joseph in dire straits. The man had also referred to him as his ‘friend’, something he had never done before.

  “I need another drink,” the Duke said as his glazed eyes roamed across the room, “and to find my wife.” And with that, the man stumbled away.

  Joseph smiled after him. The evening had become better with each passing minute.

  His smile faltered, however, as his mother approached. She had made her grand entrance an hour earlier, just as he had predicted feigning a grand recovery from the mysterious malady that had overcome her, and she received the attention she always craved.

  “What did the Duke have to say?” she asked.

  “We are to resume our talks of properties in London next week,” Joseph replied, keeping his voice low lest someone overhear.

  His mother clicked her tongue. “You should have spoken to him tonight. He is drunk and would be easily swayed in his current condition.”

  Joseph let out a small sigh and then turned to the woman, forcing a smile. “Tonight is a night for celebration, not for business,” he said firmly. “Our negotiations will go just as well if I leave them to next week.”

  His mother sent her calculated gaze around the room. “My dear son,” she hissed at him, “have you gone mad? You must go back to the Duke now and speak to him about this business matter. You will never be successful if you wait until…”

  Joseph allowed his mind to wander. Images of his life over the past ten years passed before his mind’s eye, how he had worked so hard to become successful and yet had never met his mother’s approval. However, when his eyes fell upon Miss Cooper and she shared her special smile, he swept away those despicable images. For if their love was all he had, he had already achieved everything he would need in life.

  “Mother, come with me, please,” he said, cutting her off as he lightly, but firmly, placed his arm on her arm. She followed him, though protesting, as they made their way through the crowd and through the door to the hallway. He did not stop until they got to the drawing room, where he turned and stared down at her.

  She wore a scowl on her face. “What is so important that you felt the need to drag me from the party?” she demanded. He had not expected anything less.

  “Mother, I no longer require, nor want, your opinions on my life, my business or Miss Cooper,” he said in a strong tone. “I have been successful for quite some time, a fact my fiancée has shown me. I would ask that you respect my wishes and kept your opinions to yourself.”

  His mother stood before him, gaping. “We have had a plan laid out from the beginning,” she said haughtily. “It was you who was overcome with worry when you realized you had to marry the chit so you could get what that fool man Mr. Templeton left you! But it was I who suggested and guided you into tricking the woman into marrying you.” Her voice took on that motherly tone she had often used in the past to get him to do her bidding. “You have done a splendid job of fooling her, and now you speak of…” she let her words hang in the air as a sign of her disappointment and shook her head, the dramatic act that always led him to feel guilty about contradicting her. “No. The plan has worked very well and you will marry her and inherit her father’s wealth. But remember, she is no lady.”

  Joseph took a step closer to the woman who had born him. “She is a lady, and I love her. Do not ever speak those words in front of me again or you will no longer be welcome in my home.” He forced each word and she took a step back as if he had struck her.

  “How…how could you speak to me in this manner?” she asked. Then she began her typical performance, swaying on her feet as if she were on the verge of fainting. “I do not feel well.”

  “Oh, Mother, you are fine,” he said unsympathetically. “Your theatrics no longer work on me. Return to the party and enjoy it. Or not. The choice is yours.” He then turned on his heels and headed back to the door, but his mother’s voice caused him to stop.

  “I might leave,” she shouted at him defiantly. “What would people say knowing that your mother left her son’s engagement party?”

  Joseph returned her lofty gaze with a smile that did not reach his eyes. “For years I have consumed myself with what others have thought of me. Now I have realized that, as long as Miss Cooper is happy, that is all that matters to me.”

  And with that, he stalked out of the room. He felt light in his feet for the first time in as long as he could remember. He had finally stood up for what was right, and it brought him nothing but happiness.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The party had been well under way when Rachel scanned the room once again. The majority of the guests were quite inebriated, stumbling across the room or tripping over nothing as they attempted dance steps that were beyond their current ability. She laughed silently when she realized that the nobility really were no better than their lower-class counterparts. She had seen very much the same comportment late at night at the pub.

  For the first time since arriving at Elford Estates, Rachel felt as if she belonged here among these people. They had treated her as an equal, never once questioning her background. Perhaps they spoke more honestly behind their gloved hands, but at least in her presence they were cordial and respectable.

  Her heart had never known such happiness, seeming to reach new heights with each song played as she casted glances at Lord Linfield. When he had disappeared a short time earlier, she found herself wondering where he had gone to. After the fifth person inquired of him, she decided it was time to go off in search of the man.

  Making her way to the door through which she had seen him pass the last time she saw him, she glanced both ways in the hallway. To the right was his study; he could have gone there, but why would he choose tonight of all nights to work? The drawing room door was ajar, and Rachel decided to investigate that room first, and if he was not there, she would then look in the study. If she found him in that room, she would give him an earful about working during their own engagement party!

  Voices floated through the crack in the door, and Rachel immediately recognized that of Lord Linfield and his mother, though the words were unclear. She moved closer to the door. She did not mean to eavesdrop, but something in their tone made Rachel do so, and with caution.

  “It was you who was overcome with worry when you realized you had to marry the chit so you could get what that fool man Mr. Templeton left you! But it was I who suggested and guided you into tricking the woman into marrying you.” Her voice softened before
she continued. “You have done a splendid job of fooling her, and now you speak of…” She paused. “No. The plan has worked very well and you will marry her and inherit her wealth. But remember, she is no lady.”

  Rachel stumbled away, almost running and moving no better than the drunken guests in the ballroom, shame flooding through her. The man had meant to fool her the entire time, his words, his actions, all of it was a charade to win her heart so she would not leave. And all of it was for money! Fool her he had, and she proved to be the biggest fool of them all believing that a man could change as he had. For all her belief in him, there was no goodness in Lord Joseph Linfield, only greed.

  Once she reached the ballroom—how she had decided to return there, she did not know—she grabbed the first glass she saw and downed it, the fiery liquid of what she realized was brandy burning her throat, bringing tears to her eyes and doing nothing to damper the growing anger inside.

  Her first reaction was to leave at this very moment, but it would not serve her well to leave now; it was a party and she would stay and enjoy herself, for it might be her last chance to be a part of the nobility. However, first thing tomorrow morning, she would depart from this place, hopefully leaving the mighty Earl with the embarrassment of having to explain why his fiancée had left him.

  Taking another glass from a passing footman, this time wine, she sipped at it carefully. It would not do her very well to wake in the morning so unwell she was unable to leave. She needed a plan, and to develop a good plan, she needed a clear head. Yes, a plan. One to save herself and to take everything she could from her father’s house.

  “You stand out among these women,” Lord Linfield said in her ear, causing small bumps to form on her arms. “None of them can compare to your beauty.”

  Rachel turned to face him. He had a smile on his face, and why should he not? In his mind, he was just a short time away from marrying her and amassing a fortune. She forced herself to smile. “Thank you,” she said, surprised at how level her voice was.