''Who were you talking to?'' she asked Edward as he returned to her. ''I mean the tall man with the large nose and exaggerated sideburns.''
''Oh, that's just someone who pulled me to one side for a moment. Are you going to visit your father soon?''
Emily was taken aback. ''I have booked another coach trip at the end of the month. It's so difficult to get a seat. I asked Aunt Beatrice if her coach could take me, but she told me private coaches weren't allowed within three miles of the prison.''
Edward was sorry he'd asked the question. She'd had such a loving expression on her face, and she was plainly enjoying the evening very much, but the mention of the father had changed that. ''I'm sorry to bring it up now. Let's dance.'' Dancing restored Emily's mood, and as she circled Edward in her daring dress, his desire began to flow. When he suddenly pulled Emily from the dance floor, she wondered why. ''Look,'' he whispered. When she did, what she saw made her giggle. ''You understand now why I couldn't continue,'' he said as he tried to pull his jacket closed. She nodded and began to laugh.
''What is it?'' Emily asked when she saw the expression on Edward's face. His murderous expression frightened her. ''My dear, stay here and talk to Helen and James. I have some business to attend to. I'll be back very soon.'' She nodded and watched him weave between the guests and stop next to a tall man and a shorter bald man, neither of whom Emily liked the look of.
After twenty minutes of Helen's incessant gossiping, Emily decided to see if Edward was alright. She was worried about him, the expression he'd worn had shocked her, she'd never seen him look that way before. As she walked towards them, she wondered who the two men were. They both looked like rogues, one of them had a nasty scar on his face, and the other had a shaven head.
''No, that's not her. That's just some woman from the village I'm friendly with. She's very good in bed, but horrible to talk to. I'm just having some fun with her before I find someone better.''
Emily's legs turned to rubber, and she felt a cold sweat flow over her. Had it really been Edward she'd heard uttering these words. How could he? What was he doing? He was using her and didn't love her after all. She turned away and started to walk away from him as quickly as she could. All she thought of was leaving the room before she was sick over someone.
Edward saw her out of the corner of his eye and wanted to run after her, but he was trapped. He'd convinced the two men her name was Mary Cooper, a girl from a village nearby, who he was using to satisfy his sexual urges. If he ran after he now, he would blow it.
''Emily, wait, stop,'' Helen said as she ran over the lawn. ''Emily what's the matter?'' Emily saw a bush and darted behind it. When Helen caught up with her, she heard Emily's sobbing interspersed with the hideous sound of her retching.
''Oh, my Lord, dear Emily, what on earth is the matter?'' she said as she pushed the bush to one side to get to her cousin. When she saw her, Helen was shocked. Emily was on her hands and knees, her eyes were red, and there were the remains of vomit on her chin.
Emily looked up at her with glazed eyes. ''I want you to take me home, now. And I want you to deliver a message to Mr. Dirksen. Tell him I never want to see him again. Tell him to go to hell.''
''But Emily.....'' Helen was about to ask why.
''Shut your mouth and do as I say,'' Emily growled. Helen nodded and was silent during the journey home.
*****
The journey to the prison didn't seem as long this time. Perhaps because it was more familiar, Emily thought. As they drew up to the huge door, her mind thought over what had happened since the last time she'd seen her father. Edward Dirksen was her first thought, but she was relieved when she was interrupted by the coach driver who swore when he couldn't get the door open. ''Push from inside'' he shouted. The ample woman sitting next Emily pushed against it with her posterior and it sprung open.
Emily waited at the same table as the last time. It was a different warden, he looked kinder. A few gruesome looking men walked into the room and sat down with their wives. When Henry walked into the room, Emily immediately began to cry. Both his eyes were half closed and swollen, and he cold barely walk. As he limped towards her, she put her hand over her mouth and bit into her finger.
''Father, what have they done to you?'' she howled. Everyone in the room started across at them.
''Don't be upset Emily,'' he said as he sat down. ''I'm alright.''
''But you don't look alright. I'm going to see the warden about this.'' Emily stood up, but her father stopped her.
''Sit down,'' he commanded. She did. ''I was beaten up by some people over money. A very kind man helped me, I'm recovering. Please, Emily, stop crying, I'll be alright.''
Emily sniffed and wiped her nose. ''I'm sorry, but seeing you like this has been a terrible shock. I've brought some food for you, look.'' Her father peered through his swollen eyes to the bag she was holding. The sight of fresh red apples, and a pot of strawberry jam lifted his spirits.
''So tell me, Emily, what have you been up to? How are Aunt Beatrice and your cousins?''
''Well, I think.''
''You think?''
''I left London, and went to stay with Aunt Prudence in Norwich.''
''But why? My sister has no children for you to socialize with.''
Emily looked at her father's hands. They were black, and some of his nails were lifting off. ''Because a man of cousin James' acquaintance has wronged me in the most terrible way, and I couldn't bear to be anywhere near him.''
''And how are you feeling now?''
Emily wanted to say, devastated, weepy, nauseous and crushed, but didn't want her father to be concerned about her. ''I'm fine. I will never let a man treat me like that ever again. I will never suffer from a broken heart, ever again.''
He patted her hand and looked into her eyes. ''I love you. You are all I've got in the world, and when I get out of here, I'll build us another splendid house to live in, and the best tree house in England.''
Emily nodded and smiled, but the thought that he may not survive long enough crossed her mind, and her smile turned into a frown.
*****
Throughout the winter, Emily visited her father as often as she could from her home in Norwich. Each time, she took fresh fruit in an attempt to prevent him from succumbing to some of the horrible diseases in the prison. Aunt Prudence proved to be an accommodating host and kept Emily amused. It had been a long cold winter, and Emily began to think of London and the new season. She didn't want to see Edward again, but she wasn't going to find a husband in Norwich. She needed to go back to the city and find a man to settle down with before she became too old. Aunt Prudence was loathed to see her go, but understood. Indeed, it was Aunt Prudence who suggested she should go and stay with her sister in law, Mary Coates, who lived in the heart of the city of London.
When Emily arrived, she was pleased to see she was right in the middle of all the action. Mary was married to a banker, and the bankers lived in the city center, in magnificent town houses. Eighteen Jackson Row was just like all the others in the street. A black railing surrounding a small front garden, and a black front door with a window above it and a brass doorknocker in the center.
When Emily arrived for the first time, she was greeted by Christopher Coates, Mary's son. Agreeable, Emily thought as she looked at the tall young man. He was dark, and his eyes told her that he was a kind soul. Over the coming weeks, she became very fond of him, and they began to spend more and more time together.
''He's so handsome,'' Helen said when she came to visit. ''He really is quite the most handsome man I have ever seen. Much more handsome than Edward.''
The sound of the name Edward shocked Emily. She'd thought of him all winter, every day, and for some part of every hour. In the end, she'd forced him out of her mind in a savage attempt at self-preservation. Now he was there again. Helen wasn't correct, Edward was far more handsome than Christopher, but Christopher was adequately handsome. He also had good prospects in the bank which his
father ran, and Emily saw a decent future for herself with him.
The British Bankers Association Ball is always on the third Saturday in May, and this year was no exception. Emily, tired by the winter and depressed by her failed relationship with Edward, had decided to wear the green dress which showed off her breasts so well.
Emily was surprised how well Christopher could dance. Much better than Edward. Christopher for his part, didn't take his eyes off Emily for a second that evening. When she moved her breasts jiggled seductively, and he felt himself getting hard on at least three occasions.
''Emily, will you walk with me outside, we can ask Helen to accompany us?'' Emily agreed and as they walked, Helen, who'd learned much about being a chaperon from Emily's previous encounter, stayed a discreet distance behind them. Helen was jealous, Emily always took the most handsome men. Christopher made Helen feel like a silly schoolgirl, and when she looked at him, she felt warmth rising in her belly.
Helen held her hand to her mouth and tried not to scream in frustration when she saw Christopher go down on one knee in front of Emily. When she saw Emily nod, she ran back into the ball.
''Mr. Christopher has asked me to marry him,'' Emily said to Helen upon her return to the ballroom.
''I know, I saw him. And I saw you say yes.''
''Helen, please be happy for me, you should see the grumpy expression on your face.'' But Helen couldn't hide her disappointment.
*****
Emily hadn't wanted to go to the Duke of Marlborough's ball. It held unpleasant memories. It had been at this ball, a year ago, that her life had fallen apart when she'd overheard Edward talking about her in such a despicable way. She was no longer surprised by his behavior on that evening. On several occasions during the current season, young women had told her that she'd had a lucky escape, from him. When she inquired why, all of them told her the same thing. That he'd become a serial womanizer, a rake, who spent no more than two weeks with each of his conquests before moving mercilessly to the next.
Christopher had eventually persuaded her to go because it was the highlight of the season, and because he wanted to be seen with her. She'd been very insistent that she didn't want to go, but he'd called her mean and narrow-minded, so she'd relented.
It was just like the previous year, crowded. Emily turned as many heads as she had done last time, and Christopher was just as proud of her as Edward had been.
When Emily and Christoper danced, she suddenly felt it. It was like a surgeon's lance, piercing the back of her head. As she weaved her way around the other dancers and back to Christopher, the feeling intensified making it difficult for her to concentrate.
When she looked to her left she saw him standing at the edge of the dance floor, his eyes fixed on her and a look of hurt etched across his face. She felt her heart racing and tiny drops of perspiration developing on her upper lip. Her legs felt numb, and she had to stop the dance.
''What's wrong, Emily?'' Christopher asked as he followed her. ''You can't just stop in the middle of a dance.''
''Christopher, I told you I didn't want to come to this ball, for God's sake, leave me alone,'' she said. He stopped and watched as she made her way to the ladies room. He went to join Helen and her group, much to Helen's delight.
When Emily emerged from the comfort of the ladies restroom, Edward was waiting for her. He took hold of her arm and pulled her into a corner where they were relatively free from view.
''Emily, what have you done to me?'' Edward asked.
What have I done to him, what a cheek, she thought. ''I have done nothing to you, Edward. You are a dishonorable man and I treated you as you deserved to be treated.'' Emily felt her heart fluttering and her knees shaking. She could see how crushed he was, and it pained her. She wanted nothing more than to feel his naked body on top of hers, but he had said something terrible, and she could never trust him again.
''Why do you say I am dishonorable, please justify yourself?''
''Justify myself? Justify myself?'' Emily was close to rage. ''It is you who should justify yourself. I heard what you said to those men last year, at this very ball. What you said was cruel and unforgivable. You used me for your own indecent gratification. You will never do that to me again.''
''But Emily you left without speaking to me. You have no idea what went on in that conversation. You jumped to conclusions.''
''Conclusions?'' He stood back from her as she took hold of his jacket and twisted it. ''All I know is what I heard, and nothing could justify what you said, nothing.''
''But Emily, I love you, I have always loved you. I want to be with you.''
''Well you have a strange way of showing it. I hear you have turned into a womanizer. I believe there isn't a single woman in London who you haven't taken to your bed.''
He was shocked at her accusation. ''That is not true. I have seen some young ladies, but only to help me over the distress of losing you. And it didn't work, I will never get over you.''
''It's too late, Edward,'' she said. Emily wanted to cry, his impassioned pleas had made the river of desire within her flow again, and she yearned to feel him inside her. But she could never trust him again, and her life with Christopher would be much calmer and less fraught.
''Do you deny me because you are with someone?''
''Partly.''
''The man you were dancing with is not worthy of you. Emily, you are intelligent and a free spirit. You have the most amazing sense of humor and you are compassionate. He won't make you happy, he will stifle you in a swamp of domesticity. He's a gray banker, they are all the same.''
Helen must have told him who Christopher was. ''I will soon be his wife. Goodbye, Edward.'' Don't go, kiss him, pull him to you and kiss him, a voice said to her. But her body turned away and took her into the crowd.
*****
Christopher was at the bank, and his mother had gone out to a women's luncheon. Around twelve o'clock there was a loud bang at the door. Emily sat and waited for Rodgers the butler to answer it, but when the person knocked again, she remembered it was his day off, and apart from cook she was alone in the house. She put her sampler down on the sofa and went to the door.
She recognized the man standing in front of her. It was the man with the big nose and exaggerated sideburns that she'd seen at the Duke of Marlborough's ball a year ago. He was the man Edward had first spoken to before he'd spoken so badly of her.
''Miss Emily Lucas?'' he asked. She nodded. ''Splendid. I'm afraid the man I'm with is a very slow walker,'' he said as he pointed down the street.
''Father, father, oh father,'' she said as she bolted out of the door and down the street. He was frail, and she almost knocked him over in her enthusiasm.
''Emily. Oh, it's so good to see you,'' He put his arm around her, and she helped him up the garden step and into the house. She shouted to the cook to bring some tea and sat her father in the most comfortable chair in the drawing room.
''I cannot believe it's you, father.'' His eyes were less swollen than the last time she had seen him, and his lips had recovered but he had lost more weight, and he looked like a bag of bones.
''How did you manage to get out of that terrible place?'' she asked.
''May I introduce myself,'' the other man said. ''I am the Bishop of Denningsborough. Do you know a man called Edward Dirksen?''
''Yes, I do,'' Emily said.
''Well if it weren't for Mr. Dirksen, your father would still be in that horrible place.''
''I don't understand,'' Emily said, looking at her father and then the Bishop.
''Mr. Dirksen is a very active member of a group in the church that looks after the needy.''
''Yes, I know, he mentioned some church group he was involved with.''
''Well, via that organization, Mr. Dirksen has campaigned tirelessly for your father's release.''
''Are you alright?'' her father asked, as Emily's complexion turned white.
''In the prison with your father was a vicar by th
e name of Peter Wright. He too got into trouble financially, and they ended up in the same cell.'' The Bishop stopped speaking when the cook arrived with the tea. She placed a cup and saucer in front of each of them and the tea pot close to Emily. ''I visited Reverend Wright very often,'' the Bishop continued, ''and in the process got to know your father. It came to my attention via the church organization that Mr. Dirsken was trying to secure your father's release. I met Mr. Dirksen on two occasions. We talked about the best way to go about getting your father and Revered Wright freed.''
Emily was struggling to keep up with developments. Edward had done all this, and he'd never told her, even when they'd spoken at the last ball. Why hadn't he said something?
''During one of my visits, Reverend Wright told me your father had been badly beaten by some men who came to the prison. The same men who had stolen all your father's money, his former accountants.''
Emily looked at her father who nodded.
''Unfortunately, these men also threatened your life, Emily.''
''What?'' Emily gasped. She was about to pour the tea but stopped as her hands began to tremble.
''They told your father that if he talked to the police about them, they would harm you.'' The Bishop stroked his sideburns and fiddled with a large ring on his little finger. ''Those same men turned up at the Duke of Marlborough's ball last year. Luckily I was able to warn Mr. Dirksen, and he threw them off your track by telling them that you weren't Emily Lucas.''
''He told them I was just a woman from a local village and that he barely knew me,'' Emily said, completing the Bishop's story. ''I need to go out now. Will you come with me?'' she asked.
''To where,'' her father asked.
''To Cobham Hall.''
*****
Emily jumped out of the coach before it had come to a halt and ran to the door. The door knocker shook on its base as she hammered with it. The butler looked startled when Emily ran past him without saying anything. ''Edward, Edward,'' she shouted frantically running from room to room.
Romance: Teen Romance: Follow Your Dreams (A Nerd and a Bad Boy Romance) (New Adult High School Sports Romance) Page 31