When they were alone, Philip regarded Emily for a long moment without speaking. Finally he asked, his voice humble, “Would it truly be so terrible to find yourself leg-shackled to me?”
She would not meet his eyes but traced, instead, the pattern on the back of the chair behind which she had taken refuge. And for a long moment she did not answer. He began to think she never would.
But then, abruptly, she looked up and met his eyes with a steady gaze of her own. And then she said those damnable words, “I don’t know.”
Chapter 22
It was most unfair of him to ask her such a question, Emily thought. Particularly when she wanted so desperately to agree. The thought of waking every morning to find him beside her, going to sleep every night in the same bed, being with him during the day, lying in his arms, being held and kissed, was so appealing, that Emily could not imagine anything she could possibly want more.
But marriage? Place herself forever in his hands? She could not bear the thought! What if he changed? Or she did so? He was asking only out of duty, not because he cared for her as she cared for him. And that made what he asked impossible.
If Philip had loved her, then love might temper his tendency to autocracy. But he did not, and so he would have no reason not to bend her to his will just as he wished. Already he had tried to do so more than once. No, it was a future that Emily could not, would not accept.
So when she answered, it was in a clear, steady voice as she said, “I don’t know.”
“Emily!”
His voice was shaken, distinctly shaken. Perhaps that was a good sign? Still, Emily made herself continue in the same cool voice as before.
“Why? Why do you wish to marry me? You need have told my father nothing.”
For the second time that morning, Philip tried to find an acceptable answer to that question. Only this time he wasn’t seeking a lie Canfield would believe, but the truth in his heart, a truth that he hoped would be acceptable to Emily. One she would not instantly reject. And that was far more difficult.
“I love you.”
She gave a most unladylike snort of disbelief. “Easy to say,” she told him. “But most difficult for me to believe. Why? How could you possibly love me?”
He met her eyes squarely, even as he took her hands in his. He gazed down at her, oblivious to the tenderness in his eyes as he said, honestly, “I don’t know why. Or how. You are difficult and unconventional and will no doubt land me in the briars any number of times. And if I had the least sense I would run the other way as fast as I could.”
She stared up at him, her own gaze unwavering and he took heart as he went on, “I don’t know why I love you, Emily. I only know that when I look at you I want nothing more than to take you in my arms. I want to hold you, protect you, and be forever your friend. I want you to laugh with me and fight with me and I want to spend the rest of my mornings seeing you across the breakfast table.”
Then, because he could think of nothing else to do, Philip let go of her hands and opened his arms wide. She hesitated only a moment then, miraculously, she walked straight into them and put her own arms around him. Even as he hugged her tight against his breast, she clung to him fiercely.
She turned her face up to his and when he bent to kiss her she made not the slightest protest. Finally, when he somehow found the strength to let her go, he took a step back and held out his hand to her.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, in a voice that was not nearly as steady as he would have wished.
She swallowed hard, then slowly reached out her hand to take his. “Yes,” she said.
For a long moment they clung to each other. Then, with a ragged laugh, Philip said, “I suppose we had better tell your father.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. But there was no need for apparently her father and aunt had been listening at the door.
“Ah, well, well, so that’s all settled, nice and tight,” Ashbourne said, beaming as he came into the room, rubbing his hands together.
Even Miss Jarrod was smiling, albeit a trifle tremulously. “Do you mean to be married soon?” she asked. “Or do you mean to return to London to finish ordering your trousseau?”
Emily was about to refute the notion, when she realized Aunt Agatha was blushing! Abruptly she changed her mind and said, innocently, “Well, if Mr. Langford does not mind waiting, a short while, before we are married, I should like to purchase a few new things in London.”
“Whatever you wish,” he said promptly.
Emily’s father would have objected, but apparently decided he had best not risk making matters worse. “Well, so long as Mr. Langford is in London with you, I suppose it will do no harm,” he reluctantly agreed.
“I shall be by her side, every possible moment!” Philip promised recklessly.
“Of course, I will need you to accompany me, as well, Aunt Agatha,” Emily said innocently.
Miss Jarrod blushed even more and did not try to hide her happiness at the thought. “I shall go upstairs and give orders for our things to be packed at once,” she said.
“Here, now, that’s for Mr. Langford to say, when you will leave,” Ashbourne protested.
Philip wanted to tell them that the sooner the better, so far as he was concerned. But he couldn’t. There was still work to be done. The workers had said the uniforms would be ready by tonight and that in a day or two would be sent on their way. He had to take action tonight. But he could not say so to Emily or her father or her aunt.
As Philip hesitated, trying to decide what to say, Ashbourne forestalled him. He cleared his throat and looked sharply at Philip. “You’ll leave tomorrow morning, at the earliest,” he said sternly. “For this afternoon, Mr. Langford and I have marriage settlements to discuss.”
Philip bowed, entirely undaunted. He even managed to smile reassuringly at Miss Jarrod and wink at Emily. Then he followed Mr. Ashbourne to the study.
That left Emily and Miss Jarrod alone.
“And just why are you so eager, Aunt Agatha, to return to London?” Emily asked.
Miss Jarrod looked everywhere but at her niece. “I, that is to say, well, oh, the devil with it! I wish to see Sir Thomas Levenger again. I think it quite possible he may come up to scratch, if I do!”
Emily blinked in surprise at her aunt. It was not simply the woman’s use of cant, though that was extraordinary in itself, but also that her aunt was quite serious about the matter and willing to say so aloud.
Miss Jarrod held herself stiffly, as though expecting laughter or teasing or some expression of exasperation. Instead, Emily threw her arms around her aunt and kissed her cheek.
“I hope he may do so!” she exclaimed. “And if he does, I hope you will accept him and that the two of you will be very happy together.”
Emily felt Aunt Agatha tremble and she stepped back. There was a tear or two glistening on her cheek. Miss Jarrod hastily swiped it away.
“Thank you, dearest Emily,” she said in a voice that quavered with emotion. “And I wish you every happiness with Mr. Langford. I do think he is a good man and will make you happy, if it is within his power to do so.”
Again Emily felt a sense of unease. But there was no use repining over the matter. If her marriage was not what she wished, why then she would simply have to make it what she wished. And if Mr. Langford thought he could prevent her, he would soon discover he was mistaken.
With that thought, Emily felt much better and she and her aunt finished making their preparations for the morrow’s journey.
* * * *
In the other room, Philip regarded Mr. Ashbourne steadily. “I will not be bled,” he said. “My inheritance is sufficient to support a wife and I have every intention of making her a generous settlement. But it will be placed in her hands.”
“But are you certain you do not at least wish to invest in my stables?” Ashbourne persisted. “I will have only the finest breeding stock. It will be a capital success. All I need are the funds to
begin.”
“Funds that will not be coming from my pocket,” Philip retorted grimly. At the sight of Ashbourne’s crestfallen face, however, he sighed and said, “Perhaps I know of someone who would be willing to invest in your scheme. It goes against the grain for me to recommend it, but I will speak to him when I return to London.”
Ashbourne was dismayingly grateful. He grabbed Philip’s hand with both of his and pumped it up and down.
“Thank you! Thank you! Neither you nor this other person will regret it! I shall make a go of things, I shall!”
Philip took leave to doubt it, but he did not say so aloud. He did not ask why, if Ashbourne could make a success of such a thing, he had not done so before his funds ran out. The man was, after all, his bride-to-be’s father.
But it was as though Ashbourne anticipated him, or even read his mind. He let go of Philip’s hand, poured them both a drink, and said, handing him a glass, “I would have done this on my own, you know, if my father had not left the estate so encumbered. Gambling debts. Had to sell off the best of my horses the moment I learned the extent of the damage. It’s taken me twenty years to clear the worst of those debts. But somehow there’s never been enough to become so beforehand that I could set up the stables as I wished.”
“Why not mortgage the land?” Philip asked, with a frown.
“Because we don’t own it,” Ashbourne retorted bluntly. “Emily don’t know it, but I had to sell it, early on. No other way to keep us out of debtor’s prison. But the new owner agreed to let me live here for the rest of my life. For a reasonable rent, of course. But he’s kept the arrangement secret, and for that I am grateful.”
“Why would he do that?” Philip asked.
Ashbourne shrugged. “Thought I’d pop off early, no doubt, given how heavily I was drinking back then. And later on, he began to drop hints about how, when Emily was of age, perhaps he could marry her. Keep everything in the family, so to speak.”
“Canfield!”
Ashbourne nodded. “Never thought Emily would take so against him as she did. Never thought he’d go to such lengths to force her hand.”
“What will happen now?”
Ashbourne stared into his glass for a very long moment. Then he raised bleak eyes to Philip. “Don’t know,” he said. “I’ve the contract that says I’ve the right to stay here until I die, but I don’t know whether he’ll try to drive me out or not. I may hope not, for it would look very bad, hereabouts, if he were to succeed. Canfield’s greatest ambition is to be accepted as one of us, as a gentleman. And gentlemen do not do such things to one another.”
Philip hesitated, then, against his will, he said, “If you are thrown off your land, sir, you may come to Emily and me and we shall make certain you always have a home.”
“Dashed if you aren’t a good fellow!” Ashbourne exclaimed. “Like you better than Canfield, I do. Like you much better. Even if you won’t invest in my stables.”
* * * *
Canfield heard the news by evening. He was both puzzled and angry, wondering how Langford had managed to pull off the trick. He also wished Langford joy of his new bride-to-be. She was a hoyden and a termagant and altogether unlike any lady he had ever known. Let Langford deal with her fits and starts and tempers. He was well rid of the impetuous creature!
The thought, however, which cheered Canfield the most, was that Miss Ashbourne would no doubt soon discover her bridegroom was not quite what he seemed either. If any man could handle the girl, he suspected it was the barrister. And she would so dislike being handled! That thought improved Canfield’s mood so greatly that he was able to smile and tuck into his evening meal with a fine appetite.
Mind, he would still need to look about him for a bride, and perhaps even go farther afield than this county. But all in all, that might not be entirely a bad thing. Perhaps he should go to London for a Season. There must be some, among the men he dealt with discreetly, who would help him gain the entrée to some of the homes of the gentry.
Deep in thought with his new plans, Canfield wasted no further time or energy on the question of Miss Ashbourne or Mr. Langford. He had other fish to fry.
The new uniforms were finished and some set aside to be sent on to France in the morning. With luck no one would notice the diversion of one special lot. Or if they did, they would not speak of it to anyone who mattered. No one ever had before, why should they now?
Chapter 23
Philip thought he was going to be able to sneak out of the house alone and unseen. He ought to have known better. Emily slipped up behind him as he was saddling a horse to take him to the mill.
He whirled at the sound and found himself face to face with a very determined looking young woman. She was wearing a riding habit and clearly prepared to accompany him.
“Go back in the house,” he said.
She shook her head. “Whatever you mean to do at the mill, you will manage better if you have my help.”
“How did—”
Emily regarded him wryly. “For all your efforts to keep me uninformed, you must have guessed that my friends at the mill would tell me you were coming back there tonight. Why?”
Philip silently and rather bitterly reflected on the changing mores that allowed a young lady to so bluntly quiz her fiancé. And to ignore his wishes.
He tried charm. He tried bluster. In the end he was forced to tell her at least a little of what Harry had told him about Canfield and the uniforms.
“So you mean to find out if he is shipping them to the French?” Emily asked slowly.
“I mean to do more than that,” Philip countered. “With the help of your friends, I’ve thought of a way to mark the uniforms that are to be sent on to French. If we can be sure those are the ones. That way, every man wearing such a uniform can be easily checked to see if he is a spy or not.”
She smiled. “Then I had best come with you. There will be a great deal to do and very little time to do it in. You will need my help persuading them. Come, my mare is already saddled.”
And if Philip had been confounded before, he was even more so to discover that Emily had been able to manage such a task without his hearing a thing. It was very fortunate, he thought, helping her into her saddle, that it was Harry and not he who engaged in cloak and dagger stuff on a regular basis.
They tied up their horses some distance from the mill and went the rest of the way on foot. As promised, several workers were waiting to open the doors to them. There was no doubt they were pleased to see that Emily was with Philip.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Canfield doesn’t keep his mill locked?”
One of the workers grinned. “‘E thinks ‘e does but keys can be copied, they can.”
“And locks picked,” another chimed in.
Philip looked around but they were already inside the building and the door closed behind them.
“No light shows from outside,” one of the men said, guessing his concern. “Now, what does a fancy toff likes you wants wif us?”
So Philip explained. About the uniforms. And what he wanted. They knew. The workers knew which uniforms had been set aside to be sent out special. And when it was likely to happen. Within minutes they were at work, carefully stitching on the inside in a place that would be unnoticeable to the wearer.
Emily and Philip kept guard. They also talked with the workers so that by the time the job was done, Philip had an even better sense of why Emily was so upset by conditions in the mill and his mind was planning who he would approach when they returned to London.
Finally the uniforms were all marked and the workers slipped, one by one, out of the mill. Philip and Emily were among the last to leave. They made it to their horses unseen and he helped her up. Then, as quietly as they could, they set off down the road toward her home.
They didn’t speak at first, both too tired and, now that the job was done, a sense of constraint between them. But Emily finally broke the silence.
“Will it work, do
you think?”
“I must hope so, for my brother and all the men who are fighting with him,” Philip said soberly.
“What about Canfield? Will nothing happen to him?”
Philip thought about not telling her, but in the end he feared she would just follow him again if he did not. “After I have seen you home, I mean to go back and watch the mill. Someone thought it possible Canfield is having the uniforms fetched in the morning. Early. I mean to be there to see it. I shan’t stop them, but I shall follow as far as I can and then return to report back to my brother.”
To his relief, she didn’t argue. Instead she said thoughtfully, “We shall not be able to leave in the morning for London. I shall have to fob off Papa and Aunt Agatha with some excuse. Perhaps I shall have the headache.”
In spite of himself, Philip grinned. “You are the most complete hand!” he said. “And I’ve no doubt that after we are married you shall lead me just as merry a dance as you’ve led your father and your aunt all these years.”
Completely unabashed, she grinned back at him and said, mischief in her voice, “I mean to try!” Then, more soberly she added, hesitantly, “Do you mind? Having to marry me? You made such a pretty speech, this morning, about loving me, but did you really mean it?”
Instantly Philip reached out to grab the reins of her horse and pull it up short next to his own. In a voice that even to his own ears sounded fierce he said, “Never think that I had to marry you! I wish to marry you. I love you. I meant what I said. I know you do not feel the same, yet, but I shall try to make you happy. No, it is you who I fear is being forced into things.”
Was it shyness he saw in her eyes? Some other emotion? Tears? And then her hand was over his, pressing tightly, as tightly as her voice was pitched as she said, “I do want to marry you, Philip. I love you. Indeed I think I have loved you since the first day you took me home.”
Were it not for the urgency of his mission, Philip would never have been able to find the strength to let go of her reins. “We’d best get you home,” he said, “and safe. But be assured, we shall continue this again at another, better time.”
The Reckless Barrister Page 18