Dangerous Games of a Broken Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Linfield, Emma

  Forcing back embarrassed tears, Adelaide retreated to her desk and took out fresh vellum. Retrieving her quill and ink, she pushed away her gloomy disposition and began to write a response. If she could not have the fairy-tale for herself, then she would fabricate it until she had to release Jasper from its clutches.

  I shall write to him as though he loved me once. I shall write to him as though he thought me worthy, throughout the years we have spent at his side. I shall write to him as though I have something of merit to offer. I shall write to him as though I am someone else entirely.

  She did not seek his love for herself. True, she adored Jasper, but they were lifelong friends, nothing more. It was merely the wounding, of knowing he had never desired her, that pressed her on. At least, that was what she insisted upon telling herself.

  Dearest Lord Gillet,

  You speak prettily of my heart, though it feels somewhat empty without the promise of your continued presence. I miss London terribly, and the joyous endeavors that we have shared. I miss knowing that I may come to visit with Lady Adelaide and find you about the Colborne house in some capacity. I know your friendship with her means a great deal to both of you. Indeed, I am sorry that I sought to break it apart, for I have never seen its like before. I did not understand it.

  Tell me… I know it is impertinent of me to ask, but have you ever loved Lady Adelaide in a manner beyond simple friendship? You may be honest with me, as I am not a jealous woman. I can also see that such intensity of feeling no longer exists within your acquaintance of one another. As such, I feel no threat. I did, perhaps, but that is gone now. She has assured me that I have nothing to fear, and I believe her.

  Where I am is rather beautiful and picturesque, but it pales in comparison to the bustle of the city. I walk often. What might such a thing be like for you? Do you enjoy walking in the countryside? I know you have a property in Yorkshire—there must be rather splendid woods and forests to seek adventure in. Are there? I should like to hear about them.

  I understand that emotions do not come easily to you, for you have been raised in a way that once seemed alien to me. I show my intentions somewhat bluntly. I know that ladies of your peerage do not. They often hide away in layers of subterfuge and propriety, for fear of what their true character may reveal. They cannot be free, for they worry after the opinions of others. They believe they will be mocked or wounded… or worse, ignored. Having never been raised that way, I cannot understand the shackles of not being able to be oneself. It must hurt.

  I am pleased to hear of your admiration and respect, and also your care. I think, perhaps, we may have a rather splendid friendship. The more we write, the more I am certain that you and I are not intended for one another after a romantic fashion. You are dear to me, but I cannot be selfish in my desires. I apologize if my words pain you in any way, but I feel I must speak the truth. Besides, a friendship is a rather marvelous thing.

  Your words on marriage contracts amused me. I knew you could not be so averse, given your heritage. We are all bound by the laws of our society, whether we agree with them or not. I look forward to hearing where your boundaries lie, although I will not perpetuate my hopes that they reach towards me. Not yet, anyway.

  I shall answer your questions to the best of my ability. I hope they may satisfy your curiosity.

  I grew up in the countryside, not far from London. We lived in a quaint house with beautiful gardens, for my grandfather was also wealthy. He had earned a small fortune in the tobacco trade, and my father inherited it. I enjoyed the fresh air and the cool breeze on my cheeks, and the way the snow fell in winter, and covered everything in a blanket of soft white.

  I enjoyed walking in the woods by the house, where a babbling brook meandered through the trees. I would sit on the bridge there for hours, my feet dangling down. Minnows darted below, and I would watch their silvery scales flash like diamonds underneath the water. I liked to throw sticks, too, and see how swiftly they could sweep under the bridge.

  What I loved most of all was Christmastide at the house. My most-prized memory is of one afternoon, in my twelfth year, when I ran across a fresh blanket of snow and built a snowman in the garden. A friend of mine helped, the two of us rolling up the vast balls of packed snow and stacking them on top of one another. I stole a shriveled orange from the kitchen and the cook scolded me for it, but the snowman had the most splendid nose. His eyes and mouth were made of dotted coal, his arms fashioned from twigs. My friend lent the snowman his scarf for a while, but only until the poor fellow melted.

  Now, as for my mother and father… well, I adore them more than anything. They are friend and family, wrapped into one. My mother is a remarkable woman with a sharp wit, a fierce humor, and an elegant grace that has not left her despite her advancing years. She offers me counsel and is wiser than any person I know.

  My father is a strong, proud man who would do anything for his family. Nothing could prevent him from keeping us safe. I believe he would journey to the ends of the earth and back if it meant protecting us. He carries a warmth beneath his stoic façade, and revels in the delights of company. He converses with anyone and everyone, and I admire him for his perpetual cheer. He is a warrior amongst men and I would hope that any gentleman that I find myself wed to has the same strength and softness of character.

  As for their love story… well, that is their story to tell. It is not mine. I believe they respect and admire one another deeply, but their love is no fairy-tale. Few are gifted such a rare love. In the time that they were married, marriages were hardly ever built on affection. However, I do sense that they would be lost without each other. They love each other in their own fashion, that warmth developing over the years. I should be lucky to have even a sliver of their happiness.

  Love may not be selfish, but it can be envious. If I were to marry another, would you be jealous? I do not ask in a capricious way, I am simply curious. We cannot always have the things that our hearts desire. It is the fault in the human condition.

  Now, I should be interested to hear your responses to those questions. Tell me of your childhood. Tell me of the things you adore. Tell me of the things that make you happiest. Tell me everything. I would know the love story of your parents, if there is one? I do so love the fantasy of romance. Don’t you?

  Thank you for kindness regarding our interaction the other day. You are far more gracious than you ought to be, having been faced with such a cold disregard. I realize it may have appeared as though I was insincere about my affection towards you. Indeed, you likely thought me a fortune hunter. Sadly, I was not one then… although my mother would now see me one. She has suitors awaiting me, upon my return to London. I am not looking forward to it.

  I am looking forward to your reply, however. May it arrive swiftly and safely in the hands of Lady Adelaide, who has been instructed to deliver all these letters to my residence in London. Please allow a day or so for any responses from me, though I shall endeavor to be as swift as possible.

  You are in my thoughts also.

  Fondest regards,

  Miss. L. Green

  Adelaide set down her quill and waited for the ink to dry. She had used memories of her own in her responses, though she prayed they would not be poignant enough to stir up Jasper’s remembrance. The countryside recollections of bridges and streams had been hers. She had spent hours and hours sitting in the peace of that wood. Indeed, in a fortnight, she would return there.

  Although she disliked the echoing expanse of Kiveton Hall, she found she had a sudden eagerness for the country. After a full season, she was tired of London. Besides, she reasoned it might be the last Christmastide that she spent there as a proper resident. As soon as she was married to Reuben, they would move to his seat at Weston Park in Staffordshire. That would become her home.

  Her mind drifted back to happier thoughts of her childhood. Jasper had also been the friend in the tale of the snowman. It had been his scarf that they had wrapped around the sparkling cr
eature’s neck. Still, she did not believe he would be able to piece the truth together—lots of people adored Christmastide, and lots of people built snowmen.

  Sealing it with a plain wax stamp, she slipped it into the top drawer of her bureau. She would hand it to Jasper tomorrow evening and say it had come via express rider.

  Just then, there came a knock at the bedchamber door. “Come in,” Adelaide replied.

  One of the younger maids, an unusual creature named Angelica, poked her head around the door. “There is a gentleman in the hall for you, My Lady.”

  “Oh?”

  “The Duke of Bradford.”

  Adelaide nodded. “I shall be down presently. Please, may you ask him to wait in the drawing room?”

  “Certainly, My Lady.” With that, she disappeared.

  Adelaide experienced a bristle of anxiety as she rose to follow. It had been several days since she had last seen Reuben. Although their last exchange had been somewhat comforting, she could not shake the deep-rooted feeling that she was walking into a huge mistake. Reuben admired her, yes, but did he love her?

  Not in the way she wanted to be loved.

  Chapter 21

  A storm lashed down upon the city as afternoon turned to evening, on the day that Ephraim had received the letter from Lord Rowntree. He had yet to respond to it, though he knew the villain required urgency. He had not been able to reply, for he did not know if it was plausible. It did not seem so, but his heart refused to surrender. He would not give up his daughter to that devil.

  Ephraim ducked into the public house with his collar turned up and the brim of a flat-cap covering his face. He had worn drab clothing, so he might blend in better. No one would expect an Earl to come into an establishment such as this. Indeed, hardly any of the clientele bothered to look at him as he entered.

  Moving through the throng of warm, pungent bodies, he made his way to a table in the far corner. A barmaid took his order and brought over a flagon of ale. He drank half before he had even removed his coat. The bitter swill did little to calm his nerves. Instead, it left an even sourer taste in his mouth.

  Presently, another figure appeared in the doorway of the Tap and Spile. Red-cheeked and blowing into his hands to chase away the cold, Jasper scoured the room. Ephraim raised his hand in a wave, alerting Jasper to his position.

  Retrieving a flagon of ale from the bar, Jasper made his way over and sat opposite. Ephraim had not wanted to drag Jasper into this again, but there had been little choice in the matter. Stealing a golden scepter was not something he could do alone… if at all. Still, he knew he was about to ask something enormous of Jasper. He could not quite find the words, for they stuck in his throat like honey.

  “Lady Adelaide told me you were unwell, My Lord,” Jasper rudely broke the silence first.

  Ephraim, uncaring, nodded. “A trifling cold.”

  “Are you certain it was not something else that kept you to your chambers?”

  He sighed. “You can read me like a book, Jasper. I confess, in the aftermath of our endeavor at the Houses of Parliament, I could not face my family.”

  “But it is done with, is it not? I received your package of money with the letter you sent.”

  “I am ashamed to admit it, Jasper, but… the money was something of a bribe.”

  Jasper frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “There is one more task we must complete.”

  “No… the job is done. Lord Rowntree must be satisfied by now?”

  “He is not,” Ephraim replied solemnly. “The trickster desires my daughter for himself. And so, he has set me an impossible task. In order to protect Adelaide, I must seek to fulfil his wishes. If I do not, or I cannot, she shall be ruined… and my wife along with her.”

  Jasper gaped at him. “I do not understand, My Lord.”

  “Lord Rowntree sent me a letter this morning, detailing my next instructions,” he explained. “There was a credit note attached. He has increased our fee, but at a potentially enormous cost to our reputations. He knows I am not interested in the money he has to offer, which is why he has used alternative means of leverage.”

  “Lady Adelaide?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you mean, he ‘desires’ her?”

  Ephraim sighed and stared into his ale. “He alluded to the possibility of coming to ‘alternative arrangements’ instead of fulfilling this new task. Those arrangements concern my daughter. He wishes to have her for himself. He mentioned that he is in the market for a wife, and I believe he intends to put Adelaide in that role. He has trapped me in a corner, Jasper, and I cannot see another way out.” He clawed in a shaky breath. “We must do as he has asked, and we must do it successfully. If we do not… Adelaide is lost.”

  “What is this task?”

  “He wishes us to steal a golden scepter from the altar of Westminster Abbey.”

  Jasper almost spat out his drink. “This is some jest, surely? He cannot expect you to actually go through with such a thing?”

  “No, I do not believe he does. I think he suspects that I will bow out, and allow him to make an offer of marriage to Adelaide.”

  “But she is already engaged, is she not? The Duke of Bradford will not permit such a thing.”

  Ephraim sighed. “There is enough unscrupulous behavior to warrant a break in the engagement with the Duke. It would not prove too difficult to put an end to it, especially with Lord Rowntree at the helm. He will find every scrap of scandal there is to find, and he will use it against the Duke, to forge his path towards Adelaide.”

  “The devil!” Jasper hissed.

  “He has planned it to the last detail,” Ephraim admitted. “If we fail, there shall be an outcry and Adelaide shall see her reputation in tatters. The Duke of Bradford will likely break the engagement anyway, if it is discovered that I am a no-good thief, and Lord Rowntree will swoop in. If we refuse, he will seize her by force. He has already threatened as much.”

  For a long time, Jasper said nothing. Ephraim could see that the young man was reeling from the revelation. Once again, he found himself wondering why Jasper and Adelaide had never forged an attachment. They might have avoided all of this, if they had done so. In his near-bankruptcy, the Gilletts would have done all they could to set him right again. Indeed, it would have been Jasper’s obligation.

  “This is ludicrous,” Jasper whispered, at last.

  “I know.”

  “Do you really intend to do this—to steal something so valuable from the Abbey?”

  “I must.”

  Jasper sat back in his seat and ran an anxious hand through his curls. “Do you wish for assistance? Is that why you have called me here? I thought it a somewhat curious place for us to come. I have not frequented a public house in a few years—not in London, anyway.”

  “I know that I cannot ask such a thing of you, but I must,” Ephraim replied solemnly. “If you refuse, I will not hold it against you. I will understand completely. You have your own reputation to consider, and I would not jeopardize it.”

  “Can you trick Lord Rowntree into believing you have attempted the task?”

  Ephraim shook his head. “Do you believe a man such as that would accept failure?”

  “No… I suppose not.”

  “I am sorry to ask this of you, Jasper. It pains me to do so.”

  Jasper offered a sympathetic glance. “I know that it must.”

  “Had he not threatened the security and happiness of Adelaide, I might have defied him,” Ephraim continued. “But I cannot risk so much for my own mistakes. It would be cruel of me.”

  Jasper’s eyes brightened suddenly. “There is an alternative.”

  “There is?” Ephraim sat up in surprise.

  “Let us pretend that we are going to steal this item that he has requested,” Jasper said. “When we tell him of our failure, we may gauge his reaction. If it is dangerous, I shall spirit Adelaide away into the countryside, where he cannot find her. I shall send wor
d to the Duke of Bradford of our whereabouts and have them married without delay. As soon as she is wed to him, there can be no threat. The Duke is almost as devilish as Lord Rowntree—he will not cross such a man.”

  “And if it is an entrapment? If he has men stationed to apprehend us?” Ephraim had been pondering the possibility on the walk over from Belgravia.

  Jasper cast a sad smile in his direction. “I shall linger on the outskirts and allow you to go into the Abbey alone. He will undoubtedly have spies watching the building, even if they are not there for entrapment purposes. If you are apprehended, and your reputation falls into ruin… I will marry Adelaide before Lord Rowntree has the opportunity to swoop in.”

  “You would… you would do that?”

  He nodded. “I would not see Adelaide ruined by that man. If it meant marrying her, I would do so without complaint. She is my dearest friend—surely, we could find some semblance of happiness together, in the years that might follow.”