She climbed slowly, her trepidation over the coming meeting increasing. Her first intrusion on his privacy had been quite by accident. This, however, was a deliberate assault, and she knew he would welcome neither her presence nor her questions.
As she reached the top of the stairs, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. There was a little more light than there had been last night.
Looking up, she realized that the clouds were drifting intermittently across a sliver of moon, which rode high in the heavens. As she had anticipated, outlined against the sky was that arrogantly held head set atop a pair of impossibly wide shoulders.
The earl was on the wall walk where she had been last night, looking out over the battlements. As she hesitated, wondering how to present the purpose of her mission, he turned abruptly, looking down on her.
“Forgive me,” she said.
“I believe we’ve had this conversation, Lady Barrington.”
“Then I shall endeavor to break new ground.”
“How kind. I assume I may be of some service to you.”
Although the words themselves were courteous enough, his tone was filled with ice. Emma took a breath, trying to think how to phrase an explanation of her mission to give the least offense. And was forced to acknowledge there was probably no way to do that.
“I would like to tell you a story,” she said, employing a flanking tactic rather than the frontal assault that was much more in her nature.
There was an unforgivably long silence in response.
“I shall be brief, I promise you,” she added when it seemed he might really say no.
Intellectual rather than social indeed.
“Then how can I refuse?” he said finally, his voice resigned.
“It’s about a girl on her way to her first Season.”
She was aware there had been a reaction from the man standing above her. Some subtle movement. Perhaps a straightening of his body. Or an added tension.
“It isn’t about Georgie,” she clarified, using the nickname unthinkingly because she was concentrating so fiercely on making him understand. “Although the situations are somewhat similar, I think.”
She was making a mull of this. Drawing it out until he would surely stop listening from sheer boredom.
“You see, the girl met a man. Before she arrived in London. There was only one night. A brief conversation. One kiss. It should all have been meaningless. The kind of flirtation every young girl indulges in at one time or another.”
She paused, inviting comment. Agreement or understanding, she hoped. He gave neither. He simply stood, silhouetted against the sky, as still as if he were hanging on her every word. Giving her no choice, she realized, but to continue.
“She never knew his name, but for her, he was the essence of… Of what falling in love should be,” she admitted, knowing that was exactly what that man had been to her. “The adventure. The excitement of it. She experienced them for only a few brief minutes, but they changed her life forever.”
“And they both lived happily ever after.”
She had thought his voice was cold before, but that had been nothing to the contempt she heard in it now.
“No, of course not. I told you. One night. A kiss. She never saw him again, but she never forgot him. Meeting him colored the rest of her life.”
Silence. Which was better than his mockery, she supposed. She had not realized how painful it would be to expose her most cherished memory to someone who would scoff at it.
“If there is a parable or lesson, I’m afraid I have missed its meaning,” he said after what seemed a very long time.
“I’m not certain it has one,” she said truthfully. “She fell in love, perhaps with the moment rather than the man. One could make an argument for that, and believe me, she has. But whatever really happened that night, the encounter came to represent for her what being in love should be. And when she never again felt that way…she never again fell in love.”
Another interminable silence. Because she wasn’t sure what else to say to him, she allowed it to stretch until he broke it.
“Why are you telling me this, Lady Barrington?”
“Because I’m concerned about Georgina.”
“You said she wasn’t the girl in your story?”
“No, but like that girl, she has, I’m afraid, developed a great fondness for your brother. Because she is young, you may feel it is a harmless infatuation that will quickly fade. She does not give her affection lightly, however. I believe that she truly loves him.”
“Yet you fear it? I thought that to be the purpose of this entire visit.”
“What I fear is that her heart will be broken.”
“My brother’s intentions are honorable, I assure you,” he said, the ice back in his tone.
“I have no doubt. And I am pleased to think that he is as taken with Georgina as she is with him.”
“Then… Forgive me, madam. I have no idea what your concern could be.”
“You asked if they lived happily ever after. The girl and the man in my story. They didn’t, of course. She was not free to marry the man she had fallen in love with. She had an obligation to marry well. An obligation to her family.”
“She was a fortune hunter.”
They were the same words the man who had kissed her at the inn that night had used. His voice had been full of teasing warmth, while this one…
“She had no choice,” she said, defending the child she had been. “She was seventeen and under the thumb of her guardian.”
“I am beginning to see the parallel. You fear Jamie’s fortune is not sufficient to satisfy your family’s wants.”
It was the cruelest possible interpretation, but one she could not completely deny. “Charles was willing to sanction the match based on what he believed about Jamie’s prospects.”
“And you, inveterate busybody that you are, have now discovered that, inconveniently, I am not at the point of turning up my toes. How disappointing for you all.”
“You quite mistake me, sir, if you believe I desire your death.”
“But you will admit it would hasten Charles’s approval of the children’s plans.”
Cold, mocking and cruel. And true as well.
“They are in love. I had thought that if you understood the situation, for your brother’s sake you might—”
“Of course,” he broke in, as if he had just realized her purpose. “What do you suggest, Lady Barrington? A plunge off the parapet? A tincture of poison? Or did you come prepared?”
“No one desires your death,” she said, her temper beginning to flare. He was being deliberately obtuse, and they both knew it. “You have quite mistaken the matter.”
“I think not, but I would not deprive you of the opportunity of explaining it to me for the world. What is it that you want so much you have come here with your pretty story and your not-so-subtle request?”
“Before he’ll agree to the engagement, Charles will need some assurance that your brother is indeed to be your heir,” she said evenly.
If she allowed herself to be driven to anger, she would lose. And this was too important.
“Then my man of business will see to it,” the earl said. “Was there anything else?”
Capitulation. It was time to thank him politely, turn and leave. Being Emma, she did neither. The opening he had given her was too hard to resist.
“A reason, if you please.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re a young, vigorous man. How can you be so sure you’ll never want a son of your own?”
“My social contacts are, by choice, rather limited. Unless, of course, you are volunteering your services.” The sentence rose in inquiry at the end.
Services. There was only one possible interpretation of that.
“How dare you?” Emma sputtered angrily. “I assure you I have no wish…”
The words faltered. Even she, noted for her outspokenness, could not bring herself
to state out loud what she believed he had just suggested.
“Or perhaps I, too, had a brief encounter in a snowstorm.”
“And fell in love?” The mockery this time was hers.
“Would you accept that as reason enough?”
“For shutting yourself away from the world?”
“How is this any different from your governess’s cottage, Lady Barrington?”
“I won’t be in hiding,” she said, stung that he would use something she had told him in confidence against her.
“We all hide. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should like to get back to mine. I’ve grown accustomed to my solitude and guard it jealously. Your brother-in-law will have his guarantee about Jamie’s future, and Georgie will have her romance. Is there anything else I may do for you before you leave?”
“That will be quite sufficient, thank you,” she said, fighting such a surge of fury it frightened her.
“It seemed the least I could do for a guest who has been so cavalierly neglected. I’m sorry you are bored.”
“I assure you, sir, I am not. There are far too many things at Leighton to puzzle out. I should warn you that I’m very good at riddles.”
It had the effect she had wanted. There was no quick rejoinder. And again it seemed that his body had stiffened.
“Let it go,” he warned softly. “You will only do harm to those who don’t deserve it.”
The deep voice was filled with something she had not heard there before. Neither amusement nor contempt nor coldness. It seemed instead to resonate with regret.
You will only do harm to those who don’t deserve it. Georgie or Jamie? His mother? Or was it possible he was speaking of himself?
“You should not throw down the gauntlet to a busybody, Lord Greystone. We can never resist a challenge.”
She turned and walked back to the head of the spiral stairs. It was not until she was halfway down them that she realized she was trembling.
Infuriating, despicable man. She could not remember the last time she had felt this alive.
CHAPTER FOUR
“MY LORD, you must understand that such a statement has no legal force,” the earl’s man of business protested. “It cannot be considered binding on the disposition of the estate or the title. The entitlement was created in such a way that even if you and your brother agreed to such a stipulation, you could not change the terms of the inheritance.”
“I understand perfectly,” Greystone said. “I am only trying to put the Viscount Barrington at ease concerning the marriage settlements.”
“I wish you would not do this,” Jamie said.
“I have been informed by a reliable source that such an assurance is necessary before Barrington agrees to the match. Or am I wrong in assuming you want him to agree, Jamie?”
“You know I do.”
“Then it’s settled. This is much ado about nothing, Mr. Shackleton. If you will include in the settlements language that assures my determination not to marry—”
“I must protest, my lord.” Shackleton’s interruption was much more forceful than before. “It simply isn’t wise, even if it doesn’t have force of law.”
“A gentleman’s agreement, if you will,” Alex said. “Put it in.”
In the silence that followed the command, one unconsciously given in the tone he had used often on the battlefield and rarely since, the earl walked across to the window. The same one from which he had watched the arrival of Emma’s coach.
A little less than a week ago, he realized. It seemed he had been aware of the passage of every hour they had spent under the same roof. And the topic of today’s meeting was not, of course, making her presence in his house any easier to forget.
“I must urge you to reconsider, my lord,” Shackleton said, carefully modifying his tone to something more conciliatory. “You are still a young man. There is no reason—”
The argument he had been about to make was cut off abruptly. Far too abruptly.
“Exactly,” Greystone said softly. He clasped his hands behind his back to still their idiotic trembling and kept his eyes fastened on the pane of glass before him.
“This is ridiculous,” Jamie said. “I don’t give a damn what Barrington wants. To hell with him. Miss Stanfield doesn’t give two figs about the title. She is the only one who matters in this.”
“How childishly romantic,” Alex said. “That sentiment, however, bears no resemblance to the way the world works. Women of our class marry at the direction of their male relatives, Jamie. You must know that.”
Marry at the direction of their male relatives. As she had done.
Again, as he had each night since Emma had been here, he put from his mind the image of her lying sated in the arms of another man.
“We could elope.”
Greystone finally turned his head at that bit of bravado, looking directly at Jamie for the first time. His brother’s mouth was set stubbornly in a manner he recognized. Jamie might be very easygoing, but once he made up his mind, he was nearly impervious to argument.
“Elope?” he said, raising one dark brow. “And thereby ruin Miss Stanfield? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“Eventually—”
“Oh yes, of course. Eventually. Since she seems to be as great a romantic as you, she might actually be willing to suffer those months or years of censure and isolation. The question is—Are you willing to watch her suffer them?”
As he had intended, that put a stop to any further suggestion of such a solution. Jamie could never bear to see anyone hurt, especially someone he loved. There would be no more talk of a run to the Border, thank God.
“Perhaps if we solicit Georgina’s stepmama to speak on our behalf…”
“It might interest you to know that she is the one who urged this declaration,” Alex said.
“Lady Barrington?”
“She is convinced her brother-in-law will never give his consent to the marriage without some assurance that you will be my heir.”
“Then assure him you have no intent to marry, my lord,” Shackleton offered.
“I believe that is what I have just instructed you to do,” Greystone said with a nearly forgotten arrogance.
“Saying that you will never marry and that you have no intent to marry are two very different things, my lord.”
Normally they were, Alex acknowledged. Just not in his case. “I’m not sure that wording will satisfy Miss Stanfield’s uncle.”
“And I am very sure that any other would not satisfy a court, my lord. Besides,” Shackleton went on quickly, “you may well change your mind at some time in the future.” He ignored Greystone’s laughter to continue with his point. “In that case, I should not wish you to feel honor-bound by such a pledge. Especially when it is unnecessary to achieve your ends.”
“And if he balks?”
“Then we may be forced to consider other language. Not until, if you please. As your advisor, of course, my lord,” the man of business added respectfully.
There was another silence, this one clearly waiting. During it, Alex again pretended to contemplate the falling rain, picturing instead the face of the woman who had looked up at him as he had watched her from this very window. He forced his eyes to follow the slow downward glide of a drop that landed on the top of the pane before he spoke again.
“Jamie?”
“If this must be addressed, then it should be in that language,” his brother said readily. “That’s the only way I’ll accept the addition of that stipulation.”
The pause after his brother’s pronouncement lengthened until Alex turned from the window to face him.
“Who can know what will happen in the future?” Jamie added, his chin lifted in challenge. “Whatever you may intend now—”
“Do it, Mr. Shackleton,” Alex instructed, breaking in before his brother could finish that assertion. “If you please,” he finished, careful to modulate his tone.
“Of course,” the barrister said, sou
nding relieved that this had been resolved to his satisfaction as well as the law’s. He shuffled through the papers before him, then stacked them together with a showy efficiency. “If there is nothing else, my lord…”
“That’s all. If you could have the settlements drawn up by the first of next week, I should be grateful.”
“I shall put the clerks to it immediately after I return to the city.”
“Then I shall bid you good day, sir.”
“My lord,” Shackleton rose, bowing slightly in his direction. “Mr. Leighton.”
“Thank you, Shackleton,” Jamie said. “I’m sure you’ll make a capital job of it.”
“We shall try, sir.”
“I’ll see you out,” Jamie offered.
“No need. I know my way.” After he had opened the door of the sitting room, he turned to add, “You’ve made the right decision, my lord. One you won’t have cause to regret later on. That’s always the wisest course.”
Greystone continued his pretended contemplation of the rain. He could almost feel the look the two of them exchanged behind his back.
Let them celebrate, he thought. The victory they had achieved was meaningless, which Jamie at least should understand. And if the wording of the agreement added force to the legality of it, well, that was exactly what he paid Shackleton to ensure.
When the door closed behind the older man, again he waited, this time for what he knew would be Jamie’s continuation of Shackleton’s argument. It was one his brother had made a number of times through the years.
“Thank you,” Jamie said instead.
Alex turned to find his brother eyeing him with something that looked suspiciously like compassion. An emotion he refused to acknowledge.
“There’s no need for your gratitude. What I’ve added to those documents is nothing but the truth.”
“I didn’t mean that, although I shall be very grateful if it wins over Georgina’s uncle.”
“Then for what do you thank me?”
“For freedom from guilt.”
“I beg your pardon.”
He had a sickening suspicion that Jamie might be referring to guilt over having found someone with whom to share his life when it was obvious his brother would not. Although he was aware that the thought must have crossed the boy’s mind at some time—indeed, he had employed it himself in his announcement of his move to Wyckstead—Alex didn’t want to hear him express it.
The Wedding Chase: In His Lordship's BedPrisoner of the TowerWord of a Gentleman Page 13