The Bride Who Got Lucky

by Janna MacGregor

  Her threat would have the intended effect. Somerton avoided the ton and its social events for fear they’d think he wanted to wed. She experienced no shame in using every weapon in her arsenal to win an advantage.

  Before she reached the door, Somerton was by her side and gently clasped her arm. “One more thing, Lady Emma.” A devilish gleam flared in his eyes as he commanded Arial, “Wait for your mistress outside.”

  The maid hesitated. “My lady?”

  Emma nodded her assent. It was better to end this dreadful conversation sooner rather than later. Her derring-do won out over her fluttering heartbeat. When the shop door closed, she stepped closer him. Two could play at his game. “Hmm, yes, my lord?”

  His left brow raised a mocking fraction of an inch while his gloved hand reached for hers. In an even motion, he traced his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. The silken touch was a shot-across-the-bow attack on her composure. She swallowed the cannonball lodged in her throat. His audacious move left her unbalanced, and she couldn’t pull away—nor was she certain she wanted to.

  That was the problem with Somerton. He possessed an uncanny knack for turning her insides upside down. He was like a ride on the fastest horse in a steeplechase—thrilling but dangerous.

  “Please, what more can I say to convince you?” If she told him her business, she’d most likely find herself on a permanent hiatus at Falmont.

  “Make no mistake. I’ll discover your purpose for shopping here from Goodwin.” His rich cadence was soothing like a cup of hot buttered rum, but his eyes flashed with a quick jolt of humor. The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “When I do, I shall not be averse to sharing my newfound knowledge with others.”

  His threat broke whatever spell he’d cast over her. She snatched her hand from his.

  “Somerton, we share family, friends, and our joint responsibility as godparents. However, that doesn’t mean we share everything.” She’d had enough and didn’t wait for his reply. “Are my private matters worth starting a war between the two of us?” She dismissed him with a terse nod. “Good day.”

  His laughter followed her all the way to her carriage.

  Insufferable cur.

  * * *

  Humored by the whirlwind in front of him, Nick chuckled at the first volley of attack in her declared war. Lady Emma, the one and only daughter of the powerful Duke of Langham, sashayed her way to the carriage. Even in this rank part of London, her demeanor never changed. She acted as if she owned the very city itself.

  He couldn’t remember when he’d had this much pleasure in a conversation with a woman. Quite possibly, the last time he’d seen her.

  She’d always been comely when she was younger. Now, she could strike a man mute. Her plump red lips demanded to be kissed, and the glow of her pink cheeks was irresistible. Not to mention, her lush curves and graceful movements demanded he pay attention, which was never an issue. He could watch her for hours.

  Something about her was different. When his gaze lingered on hers, her normal brilliance and incomparable confidence seemed shaded by a hint of reticence. The relaxed ease in her stance was missing, replaced by a stiffness, almost a wariness. He shook his head. Clearly, he was overthinking her reasons for being here. From all their interactions, Nick had firsthand knowledge of Emma’s first love—books. She’d already confessed that she shopped here occasionally. That fact alone should make it reasonable he’d find her at Goodwin’s.

  With a deep breath, he turned from the shop window. Word had it that the Earl of LaTourell was boasting he’d gotten the official nod from the Duke of Langham to court her. The earl had spouted some nonsense that the duke and duchess had grown weary of their daughter’s perennial unwed status.

  The news rankled Nick’s normally calm reserve and caused an unexplainable tightening in his chest. The cad wasn’t good enough for Emma. Besides, the earl was a known fop who overindulged in sweetmeats and blancmange.

  Perhaps he should throw his hat into the ring. One day, he’d need an heir.

  Damnation, where had that come from? He blew out a breath and squelched the wayward thought.

  Marriage wasn’t in his future. His work was a most demanding mistress, leaving him little time for others. He kept his evenings free to scour the streets of London for information about ships, sailing routes, and treasures. With the gathered facts, he’d pick his investments, decide which merchant ship in his fleet to send abroad for the most lucrative trades, and buy cargo shares from the Orient. He enjoyed his life and planned to keep it simple without the added complication of a woman, even one as lovely as Lady Emma. He was so close to surpassing his father’s wealth, he could taste victory.

  As her carriage pulled away, he couldn’t quash the nag that demanded attention. What possible reason would she have to visit Goodwin? His instincts warned that it couldn’t be just books. The titles Goodwin carried were old, but certainly not rare. Why would she purchase books here without checking other more reputable establishments closer to her home in Mayfair? What about Nick’s own library? He’d made the offer to her before and encouraged her to borrow anything that caught her interest.

  He made his way to the counter and rang the bell. Before it stopped vibrating, the shopkeeper emerged from behind the filthy curtain.

  “Good morning, my lord,” the shopkeeper crooned as he wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm. “Always a delight to help my favorite customer.”

  He nodded in acknowledgment. “What have you discovered?”

  Goodwin cleared his throat. “The ship landed last night, and the crew unloaded part of the cargo. At the captain’s direction, the rest tomorrow.”

  “Anyone take inventory?”

  Goodwin displayed his front teeth in a smile that made his round cheeks look like red moons. “The captain hired my brother, Rodney, on recommendation of the port-master. Her Splendor enjoyed quite a successful voyage. Rodney will provide a full accounting shortly.” The man leaned over the counter and lowered his voice to a whisper. “The routes were safe with no sign of enemy ships. With favorable winds, Her Splendor arrived weeks ahead of schedule.”

  “Excellent.” Nick thrummed his fingers on the counter. The little tidbit was the final piece he needed to make the decision to purchase Her Splendor. It would make a profitable addition to his fleet. Pleased with the news, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a purse heavy with coins. “There’s an extra guinea if you provide some additional information.”

  A look reminiscent of a hungry dog waiting for a butcher’s bone spread across the shopkeeper’s face.

  Nick studied the bag and came to the sobering conclusion he wasn’t much different from Goodwin. They both craved money and its alluring promise of power—a grim thought that left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

  “Why did Lady Emma come to see you?”

  The change in Goodwin’s expression from a warm, friendly face to one of feigned innocence was immediate. “She’s a customer looking for a book.”

  He had little patience for Goodwin’s false acts of sincerity. This interlude kept him from work. “Might two guineas help your memory?”

  The shopkeeper’s words tumbled like a waterfall. “There’s a book in Portsmouth she seeks to acquire.”

  “Why does she want it?”

  The shopkeeper winced. “I don’t know. She collects private journals. Please, she’s fascinated by the pirate queen Anne Readington’s history.”

  “A pirate queen?” Every inch of his skin prickled in awareness. “Who has the journal?”

  The shopkeeper’s whisper wheezed into a hoarse gasp. “A private collector who owns a bookshop in Portsmouth.”

  Claire and Alex couldn’t be aware of her latest whim, or he’d have heard mention in passing. Where were her brothers in all of this? “Is anyone else interested in the acquisition?”

  The shopkeeper’s eyes grew wary. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Anyone else accompany her when she
visits?”

  “Only her maid,” Goodwin replied.

  “How much is she paying you? Perhaps I’ll double it.” As in incentive, Nick juggled the bag, causing the coins to jangle.

  Goodwin’s dubious glare wasn’t the expected response. “My lord, sometimes helping a lovely lady is payment in itself.”

  “You certainly charge me for everything,” Nick challenged.

  “We have a business relationship.” Goodwin didn’t even blink. “Besides, I have a reputation to maintain.”

  “Which is?” Nick asked.

  “I’m somewhat of a favorite among the ladies.”

  Nick rolled his eyes and threw the purse in the air. “Inform me of her plans. It’ll be worth your while.”

  Goodwin caught the purse in one hand. “Of course, my lord.” With a wink, he sketched an elaborate bow.

  Nick paid little heed to the rest of Goodwin’s hijinks. With quick steps, he made his way out the door. He could hardly fathom why Emma would be brazen enough to attempt such a trip.

  As he inhaled the cool morning air, it cleared the tangle of revolving thoughts in his mind. He must remember this was Emma. The same woman who had risked her safety and her family’s wrath to acquire a book of essays several years ago. He’d never seen a woman so resolute in her actions or convictions. Whatever she deemed important, she went after with an enthusiasm that made most gentlemen appear cowardly.

  Just like the kiss she gave him in Langham Park. Over the years, he’d fondly reminisced about that event. He always found a lightness in his step for hours afterward.

  Lady Emma Cavensham was simply the most magnificent creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

  There was only one solution. He’d acquire the diary and then present it to her. With one transaction, he’d put her pirate-queen-seeking nonsense to a stop. It would eliminate her need for travel to Portsmouth, and keep her safe and her reputation intact.

  Perhaps, he’d find a little entertainment along the way and tease her about a bloodthirsty pirate queen’s diary. Her rose-colored cheeks deepened to the reddest scarlet when she was agitated.

  A tinge of doubt took ahold and wouldn’t let go. What right did he have to intrude upon her business?

  He dismissed the thought. He was saving her from herself.

  Maybe he’d get another kiss for his efforts.

  Chapter Four

  After her unfortunate meeting with Somerton earlier, Emma along with Arial had joined Lady Daphne Hallworth, Alex’s sister, for what her friend promised was a short shopping excursion. Emma pushed the curtain aside and peeked out the carriage window. The entire street was empty of horses, carriages and, more importantly, people.

  It was too early for members of the ton to drag themselves out of bed. Why couldn’t Somerton have followed their lead? Why did he always have to be the one to find her when she wanted to stay hidden? Nothing, not even the annoying Earl of Somerton, would keep her from escorting Mary to London—she was the key to bringing Aulton to justice. Nor would anyone interfere in her efforts to create a bank. If Emma could help even one woman have a better life or escape a fate similar to Lena’s, then her life would have purpose.

  She sighed. “How did I ever allow you to convince me to go shopping? I must be a true friend. If it was a bookstore or the library, at least there would be something of interest.” Emma stole another glance as the carriage came to a gentle halt. Beside her, Daphne was a vision in a pale plum gown that emphasized her striking silver eyes and jet-black hair.

  She and Daphne had been close friends since her brother had married Claire. Over the years at various family holidays and celebrations, they had shared their secrets and desires for their respective futures. They entertained one another at the insufferable balls and other social events they attended. Like Lena, Daphne relished such events, and no matter what Emma confided, she trusted Daphne would never judge or divulge any secret.

  “Grigby’s has a new selection of gloves and several pairs of pink silk stockings that promise to be the latest fashion.” Daphne settled her hand over Emma’s to stop the incessant fidgeting. “Claire said it’s the most delightful shade of pink she’s ever seen, and the silk stockings are as delicate as a butterfly’s wings.”

  Skeptical, Emma scowled. “That’s why we’re here at this time of the morning, so you can have first selection?”

  “I need a pair for Lady Emory’s ball.” Daphne leaned a little closer. “A fashionable lady must always be prepared to show a little ankle for that someone special when the opportunity presents itself. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Emma’s maid sat silently in the backward-facing seat as Daphne lectured on how to beguile a man. With a smirk tugging at Arial’s lips, she let it be known she preferred Daphne’s idea of shopping to Emma’s. “Lady Daphne makes the most astute observations. Bookstores won’t help in the department of enticing men, my lady.”

  The obvious feigned look of wide-eyed innocence on Arial’s face made Emma laugh. Arial was more than her lady’s maid. She was Emma’s confidante and sounding board, hence the familiarity. They might share books, but Emma’s ideas of how she envisioned her life without a husband sometimes shocked Arial. Yet, since Lena’s death, Arial had patiently listened to Emma rail against Aulton as she declared she’d never suffer such agony with a husband. Trustworthy, her maid never passed judgment. She was worth her weight in gold.

  “Shall we stroll?” Daphne asked.

  As if on command, the carriage door opened. The trio made their way to Grigby’s, a fashionable haberdashery and women’s shop. Mr. and Mrs. Grigby ran the store and were excellent purveyors of the finest accessories for women in all of London.

  “You’ve not kept your displeasure a secret,” Daphne hummed in Emma’s ear. “Tell me what’s caused your somber mood.”

  “It’s been a difficult week.” Emma glanced at the shop windows unwilling to let her emotions flood the sidewalks.

  Daphne took her hand and squeezed. “How could I have forgotten Lena? I’m such a wretched friend.”

  “No, you’re wonderful,” Emma answered. “I’ve just preferred my own company over the last several days. This morning didn’t help matters.”

  Daphne linked her arm with Emma’s. “What happened?”

  “Somerton happened to be at Goodwin’s this morning while I was there. He kept pressing for answers, so I told him to stay out of my business. Tell me if he mentions my visit to your brother.”

  Before Daphne could comment, a young woman with her head held high strolled out of the famous Garrard’s jewelry shop. Once she was past the shop’s windows, she collapsed with her back against a brick wall, her arms outstretched. The woman’s posture gave the appearance she was holding up the wall much like Atlas holding the world.

  Emma rushed forward. “Miss, are you all right?”

  “Yes.” The woman cleared her throat and straightened away from the wall. “I’m just out of breath.”

  Proud and tall, she wore a serviceable brown cloak several seasons out of fashion, but her bearing indicated she was familiar with the elite shops in Mayfair.

  “Do you need assistance to your carriage?” Daphne asked.

  “No, thank you. It’s really nothing. A transaction I’d hoped to complete today was unfortunately delayed.” The woman’s crimson cheeks and fluttering hands betrayed her agitation. She pocketed a small antique jewelry box. “The disappointment must show on my face.”

  There was no use standing on ceremonies when the woman was in dire need of something. Emma made the necessary introductions. “My name is Lady Emma Cavensham and this is my friend, Lady Daphne Hallworth. My maid, Arial Harris.”

  The tall woman gracefully took a step back and dipped a curtsy. “Miss March Lawson. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. If you’ll excuse me, Lady Emma and Lady Daphne?” The woman didn’t wait for responses. She nodded to Arial and was soon out of sight when she made an abrupt turn at the corner.

  A sinking sensat
ion settled deep into Emma’s chest. Miss Lawson’s acute sense of desperation was written all over her face. She’d tried valiantly to hide it, but it was there for all to see. It reminded Emma of the helplessness Lena assuredly experienced in her marriage. A piece of paper danced against the wall, the wind flirting with it. Before it took flight, Emma caught it.

  “What is it?” Daphne’s brow furrowed in a manner that mimicked her brother’s expression.

  “It’s a repair bill in the amount of twenty pounds for roof work. It’s marked overdue.” This explained Miss Lawson’s evident distress. “She needed money. No doubt she was trying to sell a piece of jewelry.”

  “Are you positive it’s Miss Lawson’s?” Arial asked.

  Emma nodded. “It says the services were rendered on Lord Lawson’s Leyton estate six months ago. Who is he?”

  Daphne peered over Emma’s shoulder to read the paper. “I thought her name sounded familiar. She must be one of his sisters. Lord Lawson is a viscount. He’s a young lad of about eight or ten. Claire has friends in Leyton, and they were discussing the family’s plight. Apparently, the viscount’s estate is in shambles. Their guardian and the trustee in control of their fortunes have completely ignored the young viscount and his sisters.” Daphne’s gaze drifted down the street in the direction that Miss Lawson had taken. “Poor woman. She looked frightened, lost even.”

  “Her distress is all too common for most women.” Emma stared at the corner where Miss Lawson had turned and disappeared from their sight.

  “She needs to visit a banker. Perhaps he’d find a solution to their unfortunate situation,” Daphne whispered.

  “What man would lend money to a penniless woman, even if her father or brother held the title of viscount?” Emma countered.

  “I suppose you’re correct. No one would.”

  “I would,” said Emma defiantly.

  Somehow, she’d find the means to gather the necessary funds for her lending institution. It would first provide security for Mary when she came to London and testified against Aulton. Then, Emma planned to help other women find their own peace and safety in the world so they wouldn’t face the same fate as Lena.