Regency Romances

by Grace Fletcher

  “Are you close?” She asked. “Close to finding out the truth?”

  The earl smiled. It was an intriguing smile, full of secrets, masking the pain in his eyes. “Perhaps.” He said. “You will have to wait to find out.”

  “My Lord, as one who has nothing but your best interests at heart, will you allow me to give you a single piece of advice?” Emily asked.

  “You may give it, but I may not accept it.” The earl said.

  “I’ll give it anyway,” Emily said. “My Lord, you are a good man. An educated, God-fearing man, who has much to offer the world. It is a great tragedy that your father’s murderer stole his life. But by locking yourself away like this, you have enabled him to take your life too. You’ve wasted your talents by hiding behind walls.”

  “What would you suggest I do?” The earl asked, bitterly. “The world believes I am a murderer. My face sends shudders down their spines. Shall I just walk out amongst them all, and not care about the whispers?”

  “Yes,” Emily said.

  He looked at her, amazement filling his eyes. “Yes?” He asked. “Would you do it? Would you brave their scorn?”

  “I would,” Emily said. “I would have you do it too if I could. But I understand if you can’t. I understand if you don’t want to.”

  “Why should I?” He asked. “Why should I let them laugh at me?”

  “Because not all of them will,” Emily said, urgently. “Not everyone will laugh. Many people will respect you. Many will think you brave, and then, then you will ascertain who your true friends are, My Lord. You will know who to trust better than that young boy ever did. You will be liberated from the prison you have built around yourself, and you will find happiness; but only if you dare.”

  “Perhaps I don’t have the fortitude to do that.” He said, turning away. “Perhaps the best I can do is hide.”

  “This masquerade,” Emily said as he turned away. “You only agreed to host it because you think you can identify the villain, didn’t you?”

  One corner of his mouth tilted upwards. “The truth will be revealed.” He said. “I think you and my other guests will be in for a surprise.”

  Chapter 7

  A Loving Brother

  B ut before that, she had another surprise.

  “Thomas!” She exclaimed as she gazed into a large box wrapped with a ribbon. “Oh Thomas, you shouldn’t have!”

  “You selflessly helped me finish the library,” Thomas said. “You deserved a present. I know you had no dress for the masquerade, so I took the liberty of buying you one.”

  “It’s…” Emily looked at the mass of tulle and taffeta inside the box and had to hold back a laugh of delight. “Thomas, it’s…”

  “Enough to leave you speechless, which means I’ve achieved my goal. I would be most pleased if you would do me the honor of wearing it tonight.” Thomas said with a smile.

  “It’s far too beautiful.” She said. “I can’t possibly wear it.”

  “Oh you can and you shall.” He said with a laugh. “Go on and get ready. We have to depart soon. I’m confident that you’ll have every man in the hall proposing to you by the end of the night. You’re going to look utterly desirable.”

  He was correct.

  ***

  When she walked into the ballroom that night, one hand linked with Thomas’ arm, as one, the entire crowd turned to look at her. She held their gaze as long as she could, willing herself not to blush. Yet the one man she was looking for was nowhere to be found.

  She’d arranged her hair in a french plait, sitting sideways on one shoulder. The gown itself was a beautiful ice blue, with gold embroidery sliding through it like the glint of sunlight on water. It was a strapless dress, with a modest, square-cut bodice, and a full, sweeping skirt. Her neck and hands were bare of all jewelry. All she had on were two diamond earrings that had once belonged to her mother. Yet the simplicity of her outfit seemed to dazzle all those who saw her. Her creamy pink skin seemed to stand out against the ice of the gown, contrasting perfectly with it. In her hand, Emily held a long stick, to which was attached a Venetian mask; one that would perfectly cover her face.

  In the distance, she saw Fiona, dressed in a green velvet gown. Poor Fiona’s skin seemed to turn green with envy when she caught sight of Emily. Turning to her father, Fiona muttered some angry words into his ears. He only laughed, and shrugged.

  As she made her way across the ballroom, she was asked to dance several times, and though she demurred as much as possible, she eventually had to capitulate so as not to disappoint Thomas. Yet her heart longed only for one man; the one man who had vanished. Where was the earl? After all, it was his party, was it not?

  Then she saw him. He held a mask up to his face, but his walk, his height, and the breadth of his shoulders were unmistakable. She felt herself stop in the middle of her dance to a rather enthusiastic young lord, not caring that she appeared rude.

  Tonight was her last night here in the castle, and she was determined to have one, just one, dance with him. Perhaps, if she was fortunate, and she felt buoyed up with happiness and confidence, maybe she could escape with a single kiss. She knew he did not love her, and yet her heart longed for that one kiss. If she could only get it, she would die a happy woman, even if she were to die old and alone.

  His eyes seemed to look at nothing else but her, as he walked through the ballroom. Finally, reaching her, he bowed and held out a hand. The crowd seemed to melt around them, as a waltz began.

  Delicately, the two began to dance. The duke towered over her, and she felt like a kitten being carried by the neck, always aware of his greater strength, yet never afraid of it. His hand on her waist made her feel weak, and the heat of his body seemed to overwhelm her. But then, as they danced, she slowly dissolved into the music, until nothing existed but him and the melody.

  In perfect rhythm, the two glided across the dance floor. He twirled her around, raised her high, then caught her. All along, she felt perfectly safe; safer and happier than she had ever felt before.

  Then, in a single shattering moment, as she caught his eye, she felt her heart break.

  What was she doing? Why was she doing this? What could she possibly achieve? He had already made it clear that he had no love for her. Nor could she, with her modest means, possibly hope to attract him.

  “Why do you look at me this way?” He asked.

  She shook her head, unable to answer.

  “You told me that I should be brave enough to show the world my face.” He said.

  “I did.” She said. “No woman who loved you would care about your face. It is you that she would love, My Lord. Your honor, your strength, your smile, those are the things she would value.”

  “I hope that is true.” The earl said. “At any rate, we will find out.” So saying, he dropped his mask.

  Gasps went up from the crowds. Several hands pointed towards him, and whispers began all the way from the back of the room.

  Emily stayed frozen, looking up into his eyes. She could see the faintest beat of a vein on his forehead. What bravery! She thought. What courageousness he possessed, to finally shave off the beard that had been hiding his face, and show himself so to the world. Right now, she saw, he was vulnerable. He was afraid, and that made his act all the more admirable.

  How she longed to kiss him. She yearned to engulf him in a hug and protect him from every single whisper. But she couldn’t do that. All she could do was look at him, and marvel that he had ever thought himself damaged. Because to her, he was so very, very handsome. He was striking in the way that Michelangelo’s David was; strong, masculine and still pure somehow.

  To another, who did not love him, the earl’s features would not have drawn such praise. Fiona, in fact, immediately changed her mind about marrying him as soon as she saw the network of scars that disfigured his right cheek.

  Yet all that Emily saw was the sharp cheekbones that stood beside his aquiline nose, and the strong jawline, which looked
as if it could shatter marble.

  Unthinkingly, she reached up to touch his face, unable to speak. Her eyes, she hoped, would reveal her thoughts to him.

  “You are not repulsed by me?” He said, and there was an incredulous wonder in his voice.

  “I think you are the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life, My Lord.” She said in a whisper. It was the truth. “Only a fool would think otherwise. Not a woman in here could look at you and not desire you.”

  “Do you?” He asked.

  Time stood still and shame flooded Emily. How could she have? He had told her so clearly that she would be a fool if she expected to love him. She had thanked the heavens then, that no one would ever be able to guess her foolishness. Yet here she was, and she had revealed her heart to him. He would reject her. He would surely reject her, and she could not bear the shame of it.

  “Tell me.” He said, his eyes boring into hers. “Do you?”

  Unable to breathe, but maintaining eye contact, she slowly nodded.

  His eyes seemed to glint, to change color. He took a deep breath, no doubt ready to reject her. But before he could speak, a man dressed in a navy uniform had stepped up and whispered something into his ear. With a curt nod, the earl bowed to her and exited the room.

  Humiliation pooled in her stomach. She had made a fool of herself and of Thomas as well. What was she thinking? How could she have admitted her love to the earl when she had no hope of it being returned? Her heart shattered within her, piercing her with a thousand shards. With a small cry, she fled the ballroom, determined to leave the castle forever.

  Chapter 8

  The Ruined Book

  “S houldn’t we at least talk to him?” Thomas asked uncertainly.

  Emily had removed her ballgown and was now in the very same dress she had worn the first time she met the earl. The memory of falling into his arms made her feel weak. Even then, her heart had known, that she had fallen in more than one way. She stayed frozen, her hands running over the silk of her dress. Then, tucked into a pocket, she felt the rustle of paper.

  It came back to her. She’d put the page that had fallen out of that book in her pocket, hoping to seal it again when she had the chance. With an exclamation, she realized that the page was probably ruined as it had gone through the wash with her dress.

  “Are you alright, Emily?” Thomas asked.

  “I… I ruined a book.” She said. “Oh, Thomas..” She explained to him briefly what had happened. He frowned, then said, “Do you remember the title of the book? Perhaps we can order a replacement.”

  “It was Le Comte De Monte Cristo.” She said. The paper was transparent now that it had been through the laundry, but very carefully, she opened it up.

  “There are two ways of seeing: with the body and with the soul. The body's sight can sometimes forget, but the soul remembers forever.” She read the quote aloud and smiled a little. “Apt, don’t you think?” She asked Thomas.

  “Apt?” Thomas was examining the page now, holding it up to the light. “In what way?”

  “I don’t suppose I will ever forget this castle.” She said. “Long after my body’s sight has lost it to other memories, my soul will remember it.” And him. She thought. The earl’s face, as he looked down into hers, the sound of his laughter, the quiet, measured voice in which he spoke… and the pain in his eyes. How could she ever forget?

  “Emily,” Thomas said suddenly. “Do you see what I do?”

  “What is it?” She asked, confused.

  “Words,” Thomas said. He was squinting as he held the page up to the light. “I see words.”

  “But of course, I just read them out to you,” Emily said.

  “No. Beneath that. Hidden in the spaces between light. They’re only visible when I hold them up to the light like this.”

  A thrill went through Emily. Instantly, she knew this could have something to do with Greta.

  “What does it say?” She asked.

  “It’s just a string of nonsense words and numbers. Greta. Bayonet. 51. Art. 32. Float on 19. Me.” Thomas shrugged. “Still, quite a curiosity, isn’t it?”

  “Let me see that.” Emily read over the words, and her eyes widened. “The last word Thomas. It isn’t me. There are dots in between the letters. It’s M.E. The Marquis of Eagleton!”

  “What?” Thomas looked baffled. “Why would the Marquis of Eagleton be leaving notes to strange women in the earl’s library?”

  “Thomas, we must take it to the earl at once!” Emily exclaimed.

  “Why? I can’t imagine he’ll be too pleased if we ruin his party by telling him we’re going away.” Thomas said. “Which brings me back to my point Emily, why must we leave? You must tell me what changed your mind. Until this morning I thought you rather loved living here. In fact, I thought…” He gave a little cough. “I was inclined to believe that you loved…”

  She turned around and faced him, and the words dried up in his throat. Her eyes had a look that didn’t encourage more words from him. On the subject of love, she felt that she’d made enough of a fool of herself.

  “Let’s take it to the earl, like you said.” Thomas smiled, trying to pacify her. “Will you come with me?”

  “I... I still have my packing to finish.” Emily said. “Why don’t you take it to him, Thomas? Tell him exactly where I found it.”

  “Very well.” Thomas went to the door, and with one hand on the doorknob, he turned around. “Emily?”

  “Yes, Thomas?”

  “I just wanted to say that you were beautiful tonight. I was proud to have you as my sister.” He smiled.

  “Thank you, and I am proud to have you as my brother.” She said with a tender look. Thomas had always been so kind to her.

  He closed the door behind him, and Emily flung herself onto the bed. She should have gone with Thomas. The idea that she might have stumbled onto evidence that proved the earl’s innocence definitively had taken root in her mind. Now, the idea wouldn’t let go, and she waited with distraught nerves for Thomas to return. Still, she knew that she had not the courage to face the earl once more. She had not the resolution to see pity and regret in his eyes as he rejected her. Better to flee with her heart somewhat intact, rather than have it shattered even further.

  ***

  There was a knock on the door, and Thomas entered, his face glowing with excitement. “Emily!” He cried.

  “What happened!” She asked, rushing to him.

  “The earl, you should have seen the look on his face when I showed him the page.” Thomas smiled. “He practically knocked over his desk, he leaped up so fast. There were three navy officers with him, and each of them looked at me like I was some sort of hero.”

  “You are a hero!” Emily hugged him. “Did they tell you the story?”

  “They only told me that the fire at Highmere was connected to a spy who they had been trying to catch ever since. The page we found was the final piece of the puzzle. Those arbitrary words and numbers were a code giving the enemy a clue to the whereabouts of our ships! What incredible good fortune that we found it!”

  “What a blessing indeed!” Emily said, excited. “Then the earl’s name will finally be exonerated?”

  “Yes, beyond a doubt.” Thomas smiled. “There was never any evidence against him, but since there was no arrest, people naturally suspected him. Now those vicious rumors will be dispelled forever. But the earl didn’t seem to care about that. He cared more that the villain will finally be caught.”

  “Yes.” Emily smiled, her own heart had a glow to it now. The earl’s thirst for avenging his father’s death would now be quenched. She hoped he would be happy, and with time, go back to being the happy man he had once been.

  “He’s waiting to speak to you,” Thomas said, a huge smile still on his face.

  “What, no Thomas, I told you. I can’t see him.” Emily’s heart gave a lurch, and a shiver went up her spine. Part of her longed to see him again, to hold him and part of her kne
w that she would not be able to bear his thankfulness, or worse if he offered her a reward. “If he wants to thank someone, Thomas, it should be you. You discovered the code not me.”

  Thomas shook his head. “What he wishes to say can only be said to you.” He said. Emily looked up sharply. There was a glint in Thomas’ eyes that she couldn’t quite recognize.

  “Go on,” Thomas said. “Take a short walk with him. You have my… permission.”

  Hardly daring to hope, Emily stepped outside. The earl was standing at attention, still dressed in the striking suit he had worn for the ball. Downstairs, the festivities were in full swing. Music floated up over the stairs, as did the sounds of laughter.

  “My Lord.” Emily curtsied, but the earl stopped her.

  “I should be bowing to you.” The earl said. “Because of you, I’ve regained my lost honor. We had almost all the evidence we needed, and this note was the final piece that helped us fit it all together. The officers have already discreetly surrounded the marquis. By morning, he will be in court.”

  “I’m so pleased for you,” Emily said. “I genuinely am. You suffered for far too long.”

  “I don’t believe in things like curses.” the earl said. “But I do believe that before you, my life was very different. Do you know, that before that day when we first met, I had not laughed in years? You were the first shaft of light to touch me in my gloom.”

  Emily smiled. “In that case, I hope the sun now shines down on you forever.” She said.

  “That depends on you.” He said.

  Her heart beating, Emily turned away. She saw a look of sudden uncertainty pass across his face.

  “Earl Bradshaw,” she said. “You’ve been alone a long time. But let me affirm to you, you are one of the most eligible bachelors in England. With the smear on your name now gone, any number of women will be willing to marry you.”

  “With my face?” He asked with a smile.

  Angrily, Emily said, “There is nothing wrong with your face! It’s the most handsome face in the world. I wish I could show you what I see. A courageous man who suffered, and must now live his life happily, with the past, reconciled.”