The Marchioness’ Buried Secret (Historical Regency Romance)

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The Marchioness’ Buried Secret (Historical Regency Romance) Page 19

by Ella Edon


  Emma nodded. "My mama used to do this. I cannot believe that I still recall it."

  Sally shrugged. "The best memories, they say, are never forgotten."

  Emma was seated in the salon. She had been home alone, waiting for Henry to return. He had said that he would not take long as he had only gone to see Lord Hamilton. But he had still yet to return.

  . "Will you be seeing the Duchess soon?" Sally asked.

  Emma looked up and narrowed her eyes at Sally. "I do recall telling you to never say that out loud."

  Sally placed her hands together. "Pardon me my lady. I did not forget, but the Earl is not home. He cannot hear if he is far away."

  Emma sighed but said nothing. Sally tried again. "Will she come soon, My Lady? The Duchess is so kind and she seems to genuinely care for you."

  That reminded Emma that she needed to ask the Duchess for her draft, to read. She wanted to show her support to the Duchess in her dreams. Emma's only dream in her life was to be wed, to fall in love and bear children. She had achieved that, although in the most unexpected way.

  She had found Henry and she loved him so dearly. However, she was terrified that she would lose him, if things with the Earl got out of hand. She really hoped, that the life they planned to have together came to pass. She wanted them to move far away from London, and start afresh, bear children and have a peaceful life. Although she held on to the strength of their love, she still feared, deep down that it would not come to pass.

  Sally spoke, "I do wish to see the Duchess again."

  Emma shook her head and smiled. "Hopefully, you shall."

  She looked towards where the curtain was drawn, stopping her needlework. It was a bit past noon. It was not too late to send the Duchess a letter. She had not seen nor been in contact with the duchess in a while. Sending her a note and asking to see a draft of her work was not such a bad idea. Emma placed the cloth aside and rose.

  Sally creased her brows. "Is there a problem, My Lady?"

  Emma shook her head. "No problem, but I do need your help."

  Sally nodded vigorously.

  Emma nodded her head towards the door. "I need you to watch out for me. I intend to send a message to the Duchess."

  Sally smiled. "Of course, My Lady. Certainly."

  They walked to the study quietly, as Emma walked in, Sally stood outside. She closed the door behind her and walked around the desk, her heart beating. She hoped that the Earl would not return soon. She had been lucky for the past few days. She was not certain how it was possible, but she and the Earl had not crossed paths. He returned either too late or left quite early.

  Emma often came out to be told that he had left already. She was so relieved by that. Henry also kept her preoccupied. She was almost never alone, except when he was not home. In those moments, she felt as though anything could happen. She felt afraid and insecure. Henry made her feel safe.

  Emma took up a blank paper from the table, placed the feather in the ink, and began to write.

  Dear Rachael,

  Warmest regards to you and your household. Indeed, it had been quite a while since we last saw each other.. I do recall you telling me about your draft. Have you been so fortunate to write more? —

  Emma was cut off abruptly by a knock on the front door. Emma folded the half-written letter and threw it under the table. She walked out into the hall, but Sally was nowhere to be seen. Creasing her brows, Emma walked towards the front door as the knocking came once again. Where was Mr. Anders?

  As she headed towards the door to open it herself, Mr. Anders called out. “I’ll get it My Lady.”

  Behind him was Sally, so Emma asked, "Sally? What is going on?"

  Sally sighed. "I heard a noise and I thought that the Earl had returned."

  Emma sighed. She was certain it was not the Earl who was by the door. It was too early for him to return. She stepped aside as Mr. Anders walked past her and pulled the door open. A courier stood there, a large smile on his face.

  He raised a letter in his hand. "To Lady Blackmoor, from Elesmere Castle."

  Emma gasped. She rushed towards the messenger and took the letter from him.

  He smiled, but Emma turned away as she raised the letter that had her father's seal on it. The seal of the Earl of Elesmere.

  Emma held the letter to her chest and closed her eyes. She had not heard from her father in such a long time. Oh how she missed her papa. Sally stood aside, her face creased with worry as she stared at her Lady. Emma walked away, into the study room, to write the letter to the Duchess quickly before the Earl did returned. She would read her father's letter later that night, when she was alone and not distracted.

  * * *

  Henry returned home late in the evening. Emma awaited him at the dinning table. She was thrilled when he walked in, though his smile was tentative. He walked towards her and took her hand in his and began to apologize for returning later than what she had expected.

  "I had urgent matters to tend to."

  Emma raised her brows. "What matters?"

  He kissed the back of her hands and with a smile on his face, he withdrew something from his pocket. A small red velvet bag. He handed it to her.

  Emma took the bag from him and opened it. When she looked inside, she simply smiled. It was a beautiful gold necklace with a Sapphire pendant that dangled from it. She placed the bag down and rose to hug him. Henry chuckled as he held her close.

  "How was your day, my darling?"

  Emma grinned. "Oh I found things to occupy myself with."

  As they spoke, the table was being set for dinner.

  “.How did the meeting with Hamilton go?"

  He nodded. "Splendid. The merchants have agreed to work with us."

  Emma took his left hand in hers. "Wonderful news. "

  "Indeed.” Henry nodded towards all that had been set. "Shall we have dinner?"

  As they were about to begin, the door to the dinning room burst open. Emma flinched as the Earl walked in. "Are you having dinner without me?"

  Emma took the velvet bag that held the necklace and tucked it away in her hand. Henry saw what she was doing, so he took it from her and slipped it into his pocket.

  The Earl walked to the head of the table where Mr. Anders rushed over and pulled out a seat for him. He sat down comfortably and smiled. Emma closed her eyes briefly, for she knew that dinner would be a disaster.

  They all began to eat quietly, although Emma had lost her appetite and Henry ate slowly. After dinner, when they were done, the Earl asked for the maids to have the table cleared. Henry nodded towards him.

  "Goodnight, father. My Lady and I shall retire —"

  "Nonsense," the Earl declared, smiling. "I was hoping we could have a discussion."

  Henry sighed. "At such a late hour?"

  "There is nothing endangering you here. It is your home."

  Henry nodded. Emma watched as they went back and forth a few more times, Henry insisting that he was exhausted from the day, but with the Earl's insistence, Emma decided to have a say. She gripped Henry's hand from beneath the table and said. "We can hear him out."

  Henry clenched his teeth. The Earl smiled and then nodded. "How have you been, Emma. I have not seen you in a while. Splendid, I hope?"

  "I have been well, My Lord."

  "Any headway with the duchess?"

  Emma's heartbeat increased. "Well...not quite."

  "Not quite? It has been months, and I have been lenient enough about it. Do I need to remind you how —"

  Henry hit the table with is left hand. Both the Earl and Emma flinched. The Earl looked at Henry squarely, brows raised. "What is it?"

  "It is quite late, father, and I wish to retire with My Lady."

  "Not until I am done with this discussion. "

  "Perhaps it would benefit us all if we had this discussion in the morning.” Henry rose.

  Emma widened her eyes, showing how terrified she was of Henry's action. He not only rose, he stretched out h
is hand to her. She looked between him and the Earl and wondered what he was doing. She wondered if he had forgotten what his father held against her. How her life could change if he snapped his fingers.

  Emma pleaded with her eyes, for Henry to take a seat. She knew that sooner or later, the Earl would confront her, and she wanted to get it over with now. She shook her head at Henry slowly.

  "Emma, you shall have this discussion with my father tomorrow. It is of no use now. It is quite late."

  "Oh Henry..." The Earl chuckled as he rose. "You now see the need to challenge me. Remember something, lad, you shall always be the son I raised. Weak, afraid and useless. If only you had had such braveness at your younger years, then, perhaps you would have saved her from her death that morning."

  Emma felt her heart chatter as the Earl walked around Henry and made his way out. Henry closed his eyes, the hand he had stretched out to her still hung in the air. Emma rose and took it immediately. His eyes opened. He said nothing to her, but he led the way, his hand holding on to hers tightly. Emma knew, from his silence, that his father's words had hurt him greatly.

  "Henry..." she whispered, as they bounded up the stairs.

  He paused, for a second, and then turned. He looked at their joined hands and said to her. "Come with me."

  Emma felt her heart lurch, but she held on to him as they made their way to the music room. She knew that he wanted time to talk about what his father had said. She did not know why, but something told her that his father's words had reminded him of something. A painful memory. She had seen something deep flash in his eyes before his father stormed out of the dining room.

  Henry pushed the door open and stepped in. She followed and shut the door behind them. The room was dark, very dark. Henry found the light and soon, the gold light flickered on.

  "Mama died here."

  He pointed to the pianoforte. "Her head was resting on the Pianoforte when I walked in. I had thought that she was sleeping, but she was dead, and I was too late. Father had asked me to watch her. But I — "

  He stopped speaking. He placed his hands behind him. "I think I understand now, why papa is always so bitter at me. He blames me, just as I blame him for my mother's death."

  Emma knew that his mother's death was a huge part of the bad things that had happened in his life, but perhaps she had underestimated it. Emma rose and walked over to him.

  "Forget what your father said. It does not define who you are."

  He nodded. "Perhaps. But I cannot help but feel that he is right. I am indeed weak. There is nothing I can do to save those I care for the most. It happened years ago, and today he reminded me of it again. He reminded me of how I had left my mother, and she left her bed chambers and came down here. She exhausted her strength."

  "What of the maids? Were they not with her?"

  "She did not listen to them."

  "Then it is no fault of yours -- "

  "She would have listened to me."

  Emma knew then that the Earl had deliberately said those words to Henry, so that Henry would be disheartened. So that he could feel the guilt that he had not felt in years. For Henry's pain, Emma could only wish that the Earl felt it more.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  While Emma had slept, Henry lay wide awake, thinking of how to uncover what his father was up to. He thought bitterly of how to take him down and hit him where it would hurt the most, just as his father had done to him, that evening before. Henry could not recall his father's words, without recalling what had happened the day his mother had died.

  "Where is my mother?" Henry asked. He looked at Mr. Anders.

  "The Lady is in the music room."

  He creased his brows and began to make his way there.

  "Why is she in there? ”

  "I — We did try to stop her, but the countess would not be stopped."

  Henry sighed. Of course, his mother was stubborn. He pushed open the door to the music room, and walked in. His mother, in a beautiful green gown, had her head resting on the top of the pianoforte, her frail skin, looking pale under the light that came in from the window.

  Henry walked over to her, and called her softly, for he had thought that she was just weak and tired. He wanted to wake her and have her carried to her bedchamber. She had lost so much weight in the past few months, even he could lift her.

  "Mother?"

  After he had called her, and tapped her a few more times, it was then it dawned on him that she was gone and that she had slipped into everlasting unconsciousness.

  Emma snuggled closer to him, which averted his attention, pulling him out of his memory. He breathed in and held her close.

  "Did I not ask that you stayed with her?!" his father screamed when he returned.

  Henry flinched, nodding as his father spoke. He could not speak, for he did not know how to tell his father that while he had been out, shooting arrows at boards and making wagers, his mother had been dying.

  "You are useless to me. You are weak. Her death is on you."

  "No," Henry whispered as his father threw a bottle of scotch against the wall of the drawing room, the shattering sound reverberating in the room. What was worse was that his mother was no longer there to tell him that everything his father said was a lie. He would have to live with it forever.

  Henry shook his head, he needed to keep his father away from him, particularly out of his head. He wanted peace.

  Beside him, Emma moaned. He held her close, and with thoughts of her much kinder words filling his head, he drifted off to sleep.

  He awoke the next morning to Emma still in his arms. He realized that it was not her snuggling that had awoken him though. It was the knock on the door. He gently moved away from her, in order not to wake her. Then, he slipped on a shirt and walked towards the door. He opened it to see Cecil. He walked out of the bed chamber into the hall.

  "Cecil?"

  "Good Morning, my Lord. Pardon me, for such interruption at an early hour. I had wanted to speak to you yesterday, however upon my return, it was said that you had retired."

  Henry nodded. "That is alright. Have you found anything?"

  Cecil nodded, his expression grim. "There is a Mr. Carroway, who owns a pub at the market. This is unknown to many, but your father had been involved with him for the past five years."

  Henry creased his brows. "Mr. Carroway you say? I have never heard of him."

  Cecil nodded. "It would not be good on the Earl's reputation if it is discovered that he often does business with such a man."

  Henry breathed out. "And you think that this Mr. Carroway may know something about my father?"

  Cecil nodded. "Most certainly. The Earl entrusts grave matters that he wants handled discreetly, in the hands of Mr. Carroway."

  Henry rubbed his face. "Do you think it would be beneficial to find this Mr. Carroway?"

  Cecil nodded. "I believe so, my Lord."

  Henry patted Cecil. "Thank you, Cecil."

  Cecil nodded.

  Henry walked back into the bed chamber where Emma still slept. He looked down at her and wished to hold her in his arms again. But, before he could climb back in bed with her, she awoke. She got up and pulled the curtains aside, so that the ray of sun fell into the room and lightened it up.

  Henry gruffly rubbed his eyes and said, “Why so quick to rise darling?”

  "It is morning, My Lord, and breakfast shall be ready soon."

  He sighed. "I do have some business to tend to today."

  "With Lord Hamilton?" she asked as she took a seat beside him.

  Henry shook his head. "No. Cecil brought me some information this morning. There is a local trader at the Market Square, whom my father goes to at times. I want to find out something from him."

  Emma frowned immediately. "Henry are you sure about this?"

  He nodded. "Cecil had said that this man was entrusted to carry out grave matters by my father. For father to entrust him in such a way, it means that he knows much about my fa
ther's dealings."

  Henry needed to take action. "I must see him for he could give me an idea of what father could be up to."

  "Henry this could be quite a dangerous thing to do. Please be careful. "

  "I will, Love. I will."

  Her eyes searched his. He nodded, promising her again that he would.

  "I do hope so."

 

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