eyed.
“He was. He was also my mother’s brother, but neither affiliation could redeem him. As much as you English revere your lofty titles, and I concede their power to accomplish more than they should, they cannot eradicate a deficiency of character.”
Emily smiled. “You may have a point. It is indeed a detriment to our peerage that distinguished rank is not always linked to persons held in the highest esteem. But not everyone’s character is stellar; we all are comprised of different degrees of human frailty.” She cast a furtive glance behind her, and then stepped in front of him. “That is, some of us are weaker than others and hence, fall to temptation.”
A grunt and a suppressed giggle emerged from the vicinity of bushes farther down the path. Amused, he arched a brow. “Like Eve and the apple? And Agnes with her penchant for—”
“Trouble. Exactly. We all are tempted.” Emily nodded solemnly, but her lips twitched. After a moment, she rolled her eyes, and lifted her voice to call over her shoulder. “Agnes, I am ready to leave. Please meet me at the end of the path.” When Brett laughed, she urged him along. “That is enough entertainment for the afternoon. Let us at least give her a moment of privacy.”
“I would think that is exactly what you do not want to give her.” He couldn’t resist teasing.
She stared at him, and then sighed. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Agnes is an accomplished flirt, not some London doxy. This is the country, not the city. Here a few stolen kisses are considered harmless. And for all her absentmindedness, I am confident she would have been at my side had I but called out and you had not intervened in so timely a manner.”
“I agree. I never meant to imply otherwise.” He eyed her full lips, intrigued to learn the prim and proper Lady Emily considered a few stolen kisses harmless. He smiled. “Now then, once Agnes joins us, in accordance with our new beginning, I insist on escorting you both home.” He lifted his arm and amused, watched her eye it warily.
“I am sure that you do.” Relenting, she curled her hand around his forearm. “You are the soul of kindness.”
He ignored her sarcasm. “So my sisters tell me.”
“I do not doubt it,” she said dryly. “I am hoping that you are the soul of discretion as well. I prefer this meeting with Drummond be kept between us. It is over, and so I do not wish to worry my family over it.”
“Of course. I can be discreet when warranted. As for Agnes, I never saw a thing. Harmless or otherwise.” He patted her hand.
She arched a brow, looking dubious. She did not trust him.
He could not fault her for that. He did not trust her either.
It was not an auspicious start to a fresh beginning.
Chapter Three
LADY Julia Bryant, the Duchess of Bedford, smiled at her baby daughter, Emma, cradled in her arms and who regarded her with wide-eyed wonder. “I think she will have Daniel’s eyes. I have been told a baby’s eyes can change color after a year, but I believe hers are destined to be moss green.”
Emily sat beside her older sister in Bedford Hall’s spacious drawing room. The sun streamed through the French windows, bathing the elegant gold and beige interior with light. “If you wish it so, I have no doubt that it will come to pass, because of late, all your wishes appear to be coming true.” She spoke warmly.
Her sister’s happiness had come to her late in life, and the journey had not been a smooth one, so Emily did not begrudge her any of her hard-earned joy. Even if it meant that Emily’s new brother-in-law, Daniel Bryant, the Duke of Bedford, came with his former business partner and closest friend, Mr. Brett Curtis.
She pursed her lips and tapped her fingers against the sofa arm, then froze at her rare display of impatience. It was difficult to remain unruffled with her plans in disarray and temporarily shelved, because she could not possibly proceed under the man’s all-knowing, piercing gaze. When Brett locked those eyes on her, he studied her as if she were a riddle he had to decipher or a pesky knot he needed to unravel.
It was a problem. One she needed to remove.
The christening was a few days ago, so one would think his departure imminent. More important, he had a company to run, and she dearly wished he would disappear to do so.
She glanced across the room to where Brett stood conversing with her father and brother-in-law. Bedford, who held Emma’s twin brother, Colin, lifted the boy and thrust him toward Brett. She half rose, prepared to rescue the baby, but instead, she found herself sinking back into her seat, her brow furrowed. Brett accepted the bundle and cradled Colin in the crook of his arm, smiling at the boy. At a comment from her father, Brett lifted his head and flashed that devilish grin of his.
She sighed. It was difficult to remain annoyed at the man when he did something so heartrendingly endearing. She knew he would be a problem.
“My father has a large family, and many of our cousins have children,” Melody Curtis explained, having clearly noted Emily’s surprise. “We are often having babies thrust into our arms, and Brett has a way with children. Always has.”
He has a way with women, too. Emily cursed the unbidden thought, and summoned a wan smile for Brett’s younger sister. While blond and blue-eyed like Brett, the resemblance ended there. Unlike her statuesque brother, Melody, at sixteen years, was a slip of a woman, barely reaching his shoulders, but her large, ebullient personality belied her size. Like her name, her voice carried a lyrical cadence, as if she was always on the brink of laughter.
“I can see that. He will make a wonderful father,” Julia said.
“I used to think so.” Miranda Curtis, another of Brett’s sisters, joined the conversation. “But since Daniel’s become a silent investor, leaving the daily operations of the company in Brett’s hands, I worry about him. He used to be on the brink of marrying one woman after another. Now freight weights, cargo hauls, and trading routes hold his attention.”
A year older than Melody, Miranda was a darker-haired version of her sister, but carried a more serious mien. Sometimes Emily caught Miranda quietly assessing her, and Emily had to glance away, fearing what the young woman might find. She hoped she was not as prescient as her brother. One meddling Curtis was enough.
Miranda’s comment on Brett’s multiple marriage prospects came as no surprise to Emily. The man could charm a statue to life, so it was inevitable that women were drawn to him. It was one of the reasons why Emily kept him at arm’s length—despite the dormant feelings Brett Curtis awakened in her.
More important, she would not attach herself to any man ever again. To risk the passion, or worse, the pain of it a second time. The first time had nearly killed her.
The only surprise in Miranda’s disclosure was that Brett had been too busy with work to pursue women. It was like a fox abstaining from hens. She doubted the man capable of such restraint. Perhaps he had changed. Mulling that over, Emily eyed Brett with curiosity.
“Yes, reproduction with freight weights or cargo hauls would prove a miraculous feat indeed, so his prospects for fatherhood do look bleak,” Melody said.
“Melody!” Miranda gasped.
“Psshaw, Mandy. He was never serious about any of those women. Thank goodness.” Melody’s face scrunched up, revealing her opinion of Brett’s taste. “And he has more time on his hands now that he has hired a new manager to oversee the company in America, as well as one to assist with the London and Bristol operations.”
Miranda, bristling at her sister’s cavalier dismissal of her concerns, opened her mouth to protest, but Julia intervened. “I have faith that he shall find someone special very soon. Being happily married myself, I wish for your brother to be equally as content. It is the least I can do for him after stealing Daniel away. Since Emily tells me that of late all my wishes appear to be coming to pass, expect wedding bells to be in his near future.” Julia winked at Miranda.
“Do not toss away a wish on a wife fo
r Brett!” Melody said. “Once he sets his mind to the matter, he is quite capable of finding one himself. It is not like he has never asked—”
“What Melody means to say”—Miranda cut off her sister, a flash of warning lighting her eyes—“is that Brett has little trouble accomplishing what he wants once he sets his mind to it.”
So Mr. Brett Curtis had asked for a woman’s hand in marriage?
It was something else to mull over.
Had he loved the woman? Had she then rejected him? Or he her? Who was she?
A voracious reader, Emily loved a good story, particularly when it starred someone else’s tragedy and helped her to escape her own. Guilt pricked her at the petty thought, and she chided herself for both it and her curiosity. After all, Mr. Curtis’s ill-fated affair was not her concern.
“Emily?”
Emily stiffened at Julia’s repetition of her name. The Curtis sisters watched her expectantly, and Julia was giving her a curious look. Heat climbed her cheeks. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I was just commenting that the success of Curtis Shipping is a testament to Brett’s talent at accomplishing what he sets his mind to. Daniel always quipped that Brett could charm, persuade, or talk a person to death in order to achieve his goals,” Julia said.
“Do not forget begging and nagging,” Melody added.
“He does have a talent for that,” Miranda said, grinning.
“And chicanery and intimidation,” Emily muttered, and then froze as Julia’s lips parted. Had she spoken out loud? She cursed her forwardness.
“Yes, that, too.” Melody rescued her, affably agreeing with a laugh. “Then let us leave Brett to fend for himself, because I have a better need for one of your wishes.”
“Oh?” Julia looked amused. “Is there a handsome man who needs to be wished to your side?”
“I certainly hope so.” Melody winked. “But do not send anyone my way just yet. First, I need one of your wishes or any assistance you can provide to address another matter. You see, I have a need to move a mountain.”
Emily exchanged a bemused look with Julia, while Miranda clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes brimming with laughter.
“A mountain? Perhaps you should elaborate,” Julia said.
“While we are here, we wish to travel to London. I want to go to the theater and to dance the night away at a ball. More important, we wish to shop for new gowns at Madame Duchard’s infamous shop. Her designs are divine.” Melody released a wistful sigh. “Then I shall be more fashionably attired to meet any suitors who come my way.”
“Of course, you must visit London,” Julia said. “A trip to England is not complete without a city excursion. I cannot believe your parents would oppose such a trip.”
Miranda had told Emily that after the funeral, Brett’s parents and younger sister Merritt had remained behind in Oxfordshire to care for the dowager duchess and her younger children.
“The ride from Bedfordshire to London in fair weather is but a two-day journey. While the road can be rustic in places, no mountains impede your travels,” Emily said.
Melody’s expression was glum as her gaze strayed to Brett. “I beg to differ. There is an insurmountable one about six feet tall, weighing just over twelve stone.”
Miranda followed her sister’s gaze and solemnly nodded. “Yes, with a deep-set scowl, and a canny ability of disappearing whenever the words shopping and new gowns enter the conversation.”
Julia tossed back her head and laughed, and Emily smiled.
“We have been working on breaching his defenses. If as you say, your wishes are coming true lately, perhaps you can spare one for us,” Melody said.
“He refuses to escort you into London?” Emily’s smile faded. What kind of brother did that make Brett if he was so heartless that he could not find time to accompany his sisters to the city?
He may have spent the past year in London, overseeing his company’s expansion, but his sisters had been home in America. Boston was far from provincial, but she doubted it could compete with John Nash’s recently completed development of New Street. And Melody was right. Madame Duchard’s gowns were exquisite.
Miranda glanced at Melody and appeared to choose her words with care. “It is not that he refuses per se, it is that another matter has arisen that requires his attention. He has promised to escort us as soon as it is taken care of.”
“Yes, he did vow to do so,” Melody agreed. “But he also said he preferred to take a long walk off a very short pier.” Her tone, for once, was gloomy.
“He told me he would rather be drawn and quartered,” Miranda said bleakly.
Emily ignored Julia’s laughter. “I thought he had more time now that he has hired new managers?”
“It is not work stealing his time, but a family situation. He promised to assist my aunt with a matter of some urgency,” Miranda said.
“Yes, he needs to locate her missing heir.” Melody sighed. “The newly minted Duke of Prescott disappeared.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I think he has run away. Brett said he hoped he had, infuriating my aunt—”
“Melody!” Miranda yelped.
“What? Andrew never expected to inherit the title anyway. He was the fourth in line and the black sheep in the family. So—”
“That is enough, Melody,” Miranda chastised. “Aunt Beverly would not appreciate your publicly airing private family matters.”
“Oh psshaw, Daniel is like family, practically lived with us for a decade in America. Now he is married to Your Grace, so that makes her family. And Lady Emily is her sister and so by extension—”
“I understand.” Miranda spoke with strained patience. “That still does not warrant a full account of—”
“It is not like they can keep his disappearance a secret.” Melody’s eyes sparkled with mischief, undaunted. “My aunt blames Brett for Drew’s disappearance, so she has demanded Brett find and drag Drew home willing or not. If he fails, Aunt Beverly says”—Melody’s voice dropped to a melodramatic contralto—“Brett will rue the day he was born. Brett said our aunt should have treaded the boards because she has a penchant for drama.”
“Such talent runs in the family,” Miranda said dryly, narrowing her eyes at Melody.
“Why does she blame Brett?” Emily said, edging forward on her seat.
“Oh, she blames Brett for all the trouble Drew gets into.” Melody rolled her eyes. “After failing out of a few schools, my aunt despaired of Andrew getting any education. As a last resort, they shipped him off to join Brett and Bedford at Dunbar Academy. The three became inseparable. A trio of trouble, my uncle used to grouse. My aunt Beverly blames Brett for filling Drew with his American scorn for English ways, which, of course, in her opinion, comprises all that is good and proper in the world.”
“Does Brett have any idea where your cousin has gone?” Julia said. “Or why he has disappeared?”
Miranda frowned. “I do not think so, but I have no doubt he will find him.”
“If Drew is in London, I do not see why we cannot accompany Brett into the city,” Melody said. “If Julia and Emily agree, I cannot see how his defenses can withstand a four-woman siege. The odds are against him.” She beamed.
Emily straightened, inspiration seizing her. “Actually, your first idea is better. Removing the mountain from the equation altogether will make your journey a far smoother one. And I know how to do it.”
“Really?” Melody’s eyes widened.
Emily ignored Julia, who was looking at her as if she had sprouted a second head. Miranda’s words had given her an epiphany.
What if Brett is not my problem, but my solution?
The man was good at resolving difficult situations, accomplishing what he set his mind to, and persuading people to do his bidding.
He was also slick
as a cardsharp, and cardsharps always won.
She had vowed to consort with the devil to achieve her goal. Satan appeared in many guises. If he posed as a shrewd, handsome American businessman for this sojourn, so be it. She was a woman of her word.
She would get Brett Curtis to assist her.
In return, she would escort his sisters to London and to shop along Oxford Street, liberating Brett to search for his wayward cousin.
To set her plan in motion, she needed allies. Melody was right. Brett might be able to fend off two women, but four? Well, then it would be like trying to change the direction of salmon en route to spawn, or in this case, to shop.
“I would love to offer you my services as an escort in London. You can stay with us at Keaton House during your visit. Father has business in the city and has been badgering me to accompany him. What better reason to do so than to visit Madame Duchard’s?”
Emily did not glance Julia’s way after noting her parted lips and wide eyes. Julia must think Emily’s two heads had sprouted horns, so stunned did her sister appear.
Melody clapped her hands in glee. “That is a marvelous plan.”
Miranda’s brow furrowed. “Lady Emily, perhaps you should confer with the earl before extending—”
“My father will be absolutely delighted to have you join us.” She waved away Miranda’s concerns. “He has been worried about my not getting out enough and encouraging me to enjoy the Season. I have a tendency to rusticate in the country more than I should, so a city excursion will alleviate my father’s worries about my growing roots and sprouting leaves.”
Once upon a time, she had relished the never-ending whirl of balls, garden parties, and elaborate dinners. Since Jason’s death, Emily no longer felt as if she belonged there. Did not know if she ever would—or if she could summon the energy to try. But to obtain the answers she sought and for Jason’s sake, she would force herself to return—and more difficult, pretend to belong.
“It is a grand offer. I do not know how to thank you. Brett will be indebted to you,” Melody said. “After all, you are sparing him an evisceration at the gallows.”
The Daughter of an Earl Page 3