Let the Lady Decide

by Gemma Blackwood

  Tilbury responded by spurring his team on faster.

  James was already running flat out, his legs thumping down onto the ground at breakneck speed, but he saw Tilbury spur the horses and put on a last, desperate burst.

  "James!" shouted Emily, horror-struck, as he ran neck and neck with the horses and seized the one nearest him by the bridle.

  "Woah, there," said James, dragging the horse back with him. The carriage spun in a wide circle as the horse on James's side slowed down. "Woah, there. Steady, now."

  He staggered and almost lost his footing, but kept hold of the horse until it had slowed to a walk, then a stop. Tilbury cursed.

  "What are you playing at, Marsden?"

  James ignored him, brushed off his trousers, and held out his hand to Emily. "My lady. If you please?"

  Emily was trembling so hard as she tried to step from the carriage that James had to catch her at the waist and lift her down.

  "It's alright," he told her. His arms stayed around her, warm and full of strength. Where Emily had felt suffocated by Tilbury's embrace, suddenly now she felt safe and steady.

  A strange feeling rushed through her – the feeling she remembered from when she'd pulled James down from the balcony railing. It was a tingling, dizzy sensation, as though she were finally able to take a breath after holding it for too long.

  She gripped James's arms until she found her balance. He held her as lightly and gently as though she were some tiny, wild creature – a fluttering bird caught in his hand.

  "It's alright," he repeated, in the same gentle tone he'd used to calm the horses. "You're safe. I won't let him hurt you."

  "I wouldn't have let him hurt me, either," she retorted. A spark of mirth kindled in James's blue eyes.

  "I don't doubt it. Though you might have broken your neck in the process."

  "What is the meaning of this?"

  A stentorian voice roared through the air, shattering the moment of peace Emily felt in James's arms.

  More boots thumped across the emerald grass. This time, Emily knew immediately who they belonged to.

  Her father.

  "Unhand my daughter at once!"

  Emily realised that she was standing in a position every bit as compromising as the one she'd recently escaped. James's arms were around her waist, and her hands were gripping onto him as though she'd tumble to the ground if she let go. She was even gazing into his eyes like a lovelorn ninny!

  James let her go immediately, with a scalded expression that told her immediately that he had felt the same dizzy longing growing within him.

  "My apologies, Your Grace," he said, giving a low bow. In the carriage, Tilbury snorted.

  "Apology! It's a little late for that! Good afternoon, Your Grace. I must apologise myself for the dreadful scene you've come across - though I can take none of the blame for it."

  "Explain yourself, Marsden," said the Duke, honing in on James with murder in his eyes. "I ought to have you hanged for this! You could have killed my daughter!"

  "Papa, what on earth are you doing here?" asked Emily, stepping between James and the raging Duke. His eyes softened as they fell on her.

  "Why, my dear girl, you didn't imagine I'd let you out with an unmarried man unsupervised? I was walking through the park behind you and Tilbury. I gave you enough distance for privacy, but stayed close enough to hear when you screamed. I must confess I thought the worst – but when I rounded the corner I saw none other than this braggart," he pointed at James, "running beside the carriage, harassing you, and eventually dragging you from it!"

  "That's not what happened at all," said Emily.

  "That's exactly what happened," said Tilbury. "Sir, allow me to keep hold of Mr Marsden until you can summon the Bow Street Runners."

  The Duke frowned, his bushy brows lowering, and looked from Emily to Tilbury.

  "Do you really think I'd believe you over my daughter?" he said scornfully. "Emily, please explain exactly what went on here."

  Words rose up in Emily's throat, but she suddenly realised she could not possibly say them. How could she explain to her father the liberties she'd allowed the Viscount to take? It was too shameful. And what if he decided she'd gone too far, and the only way to restore her honour was to marry him?

  She was too frightened to speak and too angry to stay silent. "I cannot explain, Papa. But you must understand that Mr Marsden has been my saviour today, not my attacker."

  "I, too, heard that scream, Your Grace," said James, stepping around Emily to face the Duke. "I – I happened to be walking in the park, when I heard a voice crying out which I thought I recognised. I immediately ran towards it and found Lady Emily about to jump from the Viscount's speeding carriage. I took the action I thought appropriate. I apologise if I have acted in error. If I'd known you were close by, Your Grace, I would have left the matter to you."

  The Duke held out his hand towards Emily. She took it, unable to meet his eyes. What if he asked her what had caused her to scream? Could she admit to it?

  "This is nonsense!" shouted the Viscount. "A vicious attack on my character!"

  "Emily, tell me," said her father gently. It must have cost him a great deal of pride to speak in such a tender way before the gentlemen. "Which of these men am I to believe?"

  "Mr Marsden," she said at once. "Only, Papa, please do not ask me to explain what has happened. I cannot bear to think of it, I –"

  "Hush," said her father, pulling her towards him in a loving embrace. "I trust you, my daughter. I know you have not done anything wrong. Be calm."

  "Am I to understand," asked Tilbury, "that you are taking the word of this flighty little girl over me?"

  "This girl is my daughter," said the Duke, in a dangerous tone. "I think your business here is done, Tilbury. I advise you to be on your way."

  "But, Your Grace -"

  "Be on your way before I call you out, man! Or do you really mean to defend your behaviour towards my only daughter?"

  Tilbury made a face like a snarling dog and shouted to his horses. Emily felt a blissful sense of relief as she watched his carriage vanish around a corner.

  "Now, Mr Marsden," said the Duke. Emily was surprised to hear him speaking just as harshly as he'd spoken to the Viscount. "I believe thanks are in order."

  "No thanks are necessary, Your Grace."

  "Then let me give you this warning instead." The Duke, still holding Emily close, frowned deeply and fixed James with a penetrating glare. "I cannot pretend to know what really brought you to Hyde Park this morning. I cannot pretend to be happy with the position in which I found you with my daughter. I am grateful for your assistance, but let me be clear: you must not take this as an indication of a special friendship or consideration on my daughter's part for you. I will not tolerate familiarity between you. My daughter moves in the highest circles –"

  "As do I, Your Grace," said James steadily. The Duke spluttered. Emily had to conceal her laughter. Her poor Papa was not used to being disagreed with.

  "She is my daughter!" the Duke snapped. "A Duke's daughter!"

  "And I am a Duke's brother." If only James had known what a grave mistake that was. Emily knew her father was still smarting from the embarrassment of his first meeting with Harry, Duke of Westbourne. It could not have gone worse.

  "But what is your title?" demanded the Duke. "Where are your lands? What is your family name?"

  "Your Grace knows that I have no lands or title," said James stiffly. "You will also be reassured, I think, to know that I have no designs on your daughter. My assistance comes with no ulterior motive."

  The Duke subsided, faintly mollified. "Very well. Very well. I thank you again."

  James bowed.

  Emily wiped the smile from her face before her father could see it. It was too funny, to think that he believed James Marsden was pursuing her!

  Funny, and...strangely satisfying. The thought that James might have a hidden motive filled Emily with a rush of warmth.

&n
bsp; But it was a silly idea. At the very least, he might think her as beautiful as a handful of other girls. If any man was devoid of a serious motive in pursuing a lady, it was surely James Marsden. Why, he had flirted with half a dozen of her friends, at no cost to either party!

  If he flirted with her – if his eyes caught hers in that breath-taking way – she must remind herself that it meant nothing and pay him no heed.

  Although that was difficult, remembering the look of concern on his face as he'd lifted her from the carriage.

  "Come, Emily," said the Duke, giving her a squeeze before releasing her. "Let us be off. I want to have you safely at home. You ought to rest after your ordeal."

  It was so unlike her father to show affection in public that Emily wondered how frightened he'd been, hearing her scream. Her poor Papa had enough trouble accepting she'd grown into a woman, let alone watching her get into dangerous scrapes with evil men. She patted his arm.

  "Of course, Papa." But as he turned to leave, she suddenly remembered the box that had fallen from her arms as she struggled with the Viscount. "Oh! My drafting set!"

  "Your drafting set?" asked the Duke. "What on earth made you think of that?"

  "Why, I had it with me, of course," she said. Both gentlemen looked at her in surprise. She realised that more explanation was necessary. "I intended to ask the Viscount to stop by Apsley House so that I could take a sketch of it." The Duke of Wellington's famous townhouse on Hyde Park Corner was a wonderful piece of architecture that Emily had always longed to study.

  "You took your drafting set out on a drive with a suitor?" asked the Duke incredulously. "What sort of foolish idea was that?"

  James, however, was smiling. "I am sorry you did not manage to make your sketch, my lady. Let me follow the Viscount home and ask him to give it back."

  "No, it's not in the carriage," said Emily, feeling more panicked than she had with the Viscount's oily smile inches away from her lips. The drafting set had been a gift from her grandfather. It was a beautifully-made set of antique instruments he had used himself as a boy. The thought of losing it was awful. "It fell when I tried to – well, when the Viscount –"

  She stammered to a halt. James took up the thread of her thoughts so quickly that her father hardly noticed her confusion.

  "It must be somewhere along the way. You didn't go far – it will only take us a moment to find it. Don't worry, my lady."

  The Duke offered Emily his arm, and the three of them retraced the curricle's path along the leaf-lined avenue. "Dratted foolish idea, bringing a drafting set out on a drive," he muttered as they walked. James shot Emily a look of sympathy.

  Emily was hoping to find the little red case lying on a grassy knoll, or perhaps lodged in the branches of a bush. She pictured it in her mind, whole and unbroken, and crossed her fingers behind her back that they might find it so.

  "Here we are!" called James, a little way ahead of her and her father. The moment he turned around, Emily lost all hope. His face was a picture of disappointment. She ran towards him.

  "I'm so sorry, Lady Emily," James murmured as he handed her the crushed remains of her beloved drafting set. "It must have gone under the wheels."

  Emily felt hot tears burning at the back of her eyes. She blinked rapidly. She refused to cry!

  "It...it was a gift," she explained, choking down the lump in her throat. "From my grandfather. The last birthday gift he gave me before he died."

  "I can't imagine how much it must have meant to you," said James. Emily rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

  "I should never have brought it out."

  "No, why shouldn't you? Your grandfather intended you to use it, didn't he? And you have made good use of it in the past. I can't tell you how fascinated I was to see your sketch of St Paul's –"

  "Broken, is it?" asked her father, catching them up. "Oh, Emily! You should never have brought it out in the first place. No matter. Take it as a sign, dear child. You've been spending entirely too much time studying books and not enough time studying gentlemen! When I think of the traps you could fall into…" He saw the tears in Emily's eyes and modified his tone. "Come now, Emily. Don't be upset. It was a tool for your childhood. You're a woman grown."

  "Yes, Papa," she said, hoping she sounded as though she agreed. "Please, Mr Marsden, will you throw it away for me? I don't think I could bear to."

  "Of course," said James. He was looking at her with such sympathy that she could hardly meet his eyes. She knew that if she allowed herself to feel the loss, she would cry. And what sort of silly girl cried over a drafting set?

  "Papa, I think we can allow Mr Marsden to accompany us back through the park," she said. "This is the second service he's done me today."

  "Certainly," said her father. His stern glare belied his pleasant answer. Emily ignored her father's concerns. She did not care at that moment whether she was at risk of falling in love with James Marsden or not. She only wanted to thank him properly. She would not be able to rest unless she had done it.

  Her father was not a fast walker. An old war wound kept him limping along at a slow pace. Usually, Emily indulged him by slowing her own steps, but today she wanted to speak to James alone. It was the only way to express how she really felt about what he'd seen between her and the Viscount.

  James seemed to sense her intention, and after exchanging a few polite words with her father, he allowed himself to return to his natural stride and soon caught her up.

  "Do you know," he said, "I half-believe I am winning over the old Duke. At dinner yesterday we had quite the interesting conversation about his time at war. I think he may be warming up to me."

  Emily smiled. "He's not half as crusty as he seems, I promise you. But let's not talk about my father. Mr Marsden, I haven't thanked you properly –"

  "Not a bit of it," said James. "I only did what any honourable man would do." He bit down a grin. "You would not believe how my heart pounded when I saw you about to jump from that carriage! I thought it would jump right out of my chest."

  "Now you understand how I felt when I saw you up on that balcony," said Emily. James winced.

  "Ah. Yes. Yes, I do understand. Very well. I'll mend my behaviour if you promise to mend yours."

  "I accept that offer," said Emily with a smile. "But, in all seriousness, I could not be more grateful to you. If you had not been here in the park today…"

  "But I was, and there was not any risk of my being elsewhere," said James. "I came here to find you."

  "Me?" Emily felt that quiver of dizzy delight again. That secret, warm feeling which she had to ignore – for surely he could not mean what she thought he did.

  "Yes. I'm afraid I discovered this morning that I gave you a bad piece of advice in telling you to consider the Viscount. I'm only sorry that I could not find you in time to save you from distress."

  "But you did save me! It could have been so much worse if you had not acted as you did. It was terribly brave of you!"

  "Brave had nothing to do with it. The moment I knew you were in danger I could not rest until you were safe. Especially since it was my fault in the first place. I only wish I had done my duty better. I promised to make proper inquiries about each of your suitors, and in this instance I failed miserably."

  "But I am safe, and there's no harm done." Emily felt a powerful urge to reach out and touch him, to comfort him in his guilt. He looked truly miserable at the thought that his advice had left her vulnerable to the Viscount. She could not blame him herself. How could he have known?

  That was a point which piqued her curiosity. "Tell me, how did you come to discover the Viscount's true character?"

  "I had a fortunate conversation with an old friend of mine. A lady who has found herself in the most dreadful poverty - and all, I am beginning to suspect, on account of Tilbury." James related to her the story of Mrs Wrenn's misfortunes. Emily found tears prickling her eyes again, this time in sympathy.

  "Oh, but it's too horrible! How
can he abandon a relative in such distress? And to think that only a short while ago he was bragging to me about his inheritance and his income from lands in Berkshire!"

  James stopped walking. He stared at Emily in shock. "Berkshire? Are you sure?"

  "That's what he said." Emily tilted her chin proudly upwards. "I have an excellent memory, Mr Marsden."

  "I'm sure you do. It's only that - well, Andrew Wrenn's lands were primarily in Berkshire. I'm almost certain of it. I wonder..."

  Emily's eyes widened. "No! Surely not! To brag about the money he's stolen from a defenceless widow! Could anyone be so cruel?"

  "Tilbury was cruel to you," said James gravely. "If he can stoop as low as that, I wouldn't put anything past him. I'll speak to Mrs Wrenn's lawyer about Tilbury's boasting. Let's see whether we can make anything of it."

  "I should very much like to meet this Mrs Wrenn," said Emily. "It seems I owe her my safety – and I may well be in a position to do her some good."

  James beamed. He had the most astonishing smile. It was like sunlight on her face. "You are too good, Lady Emily. I will ask her if she would like to become acquainted with you. I'm sure she'll be delighted. She has lost so many friends along with her wealth."

  "That is dreadful," said Emily. "But she has not lost you."

  "It's not in me to abandon someone to disaster," said James. "I know too well how it is to be brought down in the world by the ones we love."

  Emily was about to ask him what he meant, when they arrived at the tall black and gold gates of Hyde Park.

  "Well, here we are," said James. All his seriousness had left him; he was quite light-hearted again. "I must thank you for a most diverting morning, Lady Emily. I hardly thought I would be running down a speeding carriage when I left the house today."

  She wondered what had caused his change in tone, but soon saw that her father was catching them up. She returned James's bow with a curtsy.

  "Let me hail you a hackney carriage," said James, and stepped out into the street.

  The Duke took Emily's arm as they waited.

  "Quite the gentleman, that Mr Marsden," he said. "For all his lack of title."