Love by Secrets (A Romance Novella)

by Debra Elizabeth

  Emily sighed. The season was nearly over, and still, she had no suitor. Perhaps there was something wrong with her. She hadn’t thought about that. Hadn’t she always tried her best to be kind and considerate to everyone that crossed her path?

  “That’s a big sigh,” Catherine said, strolling into the parlor. “What troubles you, dear?”

  Emily bent her head down, and concentrated on her sewing. “Nothing Mama; I’m fine.”

  Before Catherine could pursue the matter further, Mrs. Jannell came into the parlor and delivered the tea.

  “Ma’am, I’ve brought you a cup as well. Shall I pour it for you?”

  Catherine nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Will there be anything else, Mrs. Stanton?”

  “No, thank you,” Catherine said. “Please tell cook that I’ll be in to see her to discuss the dinner menu. We have guests coming this evening.”

  “Very good, Ma’am.” Mrs. Jannell replied before turning and leaving the parlor.

  Emily perked up. “Guests? Who is coming, Mama?”

  “The Richardsons’ are joining us tonight. I’m was delighted when Mrs. Richardson accepted the invitation.”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” Emily said half-heartedly. She turned back to her embroidery.

  “I’ve seen you dance with the young Mr. Richardson a number of times this season, dear. He’s such an upstanding, young man and, let’s not forget, Lady Tisbury’s nephew,” Catherine said hoping to draw her daughter into revealing whatever it was that was bothering her.

  Emily dropped her embroidery in her lap. “Yes, he’s nice enough, but…”

  “There are my ladies,” Mr. Stanton said, striding into the parlor. “My dear, may I have a word with you?” he asked, addressing his wife.

  Catherine rose from her seat. “Of course; I’ll join you in your study in a moment.”

  Mr. Stanton kissed his wife’s forehead tenderly. “That will be fine.” He turned and left the parlor.

  Catherine looked at her daughter. “Emily, what where you going to say?”

  “Oh, nothing of importance, Mama. Mr. Richardson is nice.” Emily picked up her embroidery again to deflect her mother’s prying questions.

  The moment had passed. Emily would not tell her what was bothering her now. Catherine picked up her teacup, and headed out the door. “We can continue our conversation later. I must speak with your father now.”

  Emily stabbed the needle into the fabric, carelessly pulling her stitches too tight. Why was her mother talking about Mr. Richardson? Why were the Richardsons’ coming to dinner tonight? Her mind was awhirl with questions. Why were men so mysterious? If she asked her mother about such things, then her feelings for Mr. Preston would be known. But, what if Mr. Preston did not share those feelings? It would be more than she could tolerate. Her heart would surely break. But, how could he not? Hadn’t he had kissed her on the balcony? No gentleman would kiss a young woman without the intent of marriage, would he?

  Oh, Mr. Preston, please come and speak to me before my heart bursts with worry.

  ***

  Jonas Leary passed the report to his client. “This is the per annum for Miss Elizabeth Curry. She is the eldest daughter of John Curry, and he has provided an extremely generous dowry for her.”

  Connor studied the figures. “Jonas, you never cease to amaze me. How did you find out this information?”

  Jonas chuckled. “I am known for my discretion.”

  “Indeed you are.”

  “What of Miss Emily Stanton?”

  Connor ignored the question. He stood, and handed the report back to his lawyer.

  “I think I shall pay a social call upon Mr. Curry. It is a beautiful day for a ride out in the country, don’t you agree? Perhaps the lovely Miss Elizabeth will be at home as well.” He shook hands with his man and left the office, whistling all the way out of the building.

  Chapter 7

  Connor pulled on the reins, stopping his horse on the rise. He looked down at the estate of Mr. John Curry. A smiled curved his lips. It was twenty-five acres. The stone mansion at the bottom of the hill overlooked a pond, and was surrounded by a beautifully manicured garden. It looked every inch a house belonging to one of the wealthier families in the county.

  Connor patted his horse’s neck. “Well, old fella, let’s go down and pay our respects to the Currys; especially Miss Elizabeth Curry.” He gave his horse a gentle kick in the hindquarters, and trotted down the hill.

  A groomsman immediately met him when he neared the front entrance, and took his horse. Connor climbed the front stairs and knocked on the door.

  The door was opened within minutes. “Yes, sir. What may I do for you?”

  “I’m here to see Mr. Curry,” Connor replied.

  The butler nodded and moved aside, letting Connor pass. He escorted him to Mr. Curry’s study, and rapped lightly on the door.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  The butler opened the door. “Sir, a Mr. Connor Preston is here to pay his respects.”

  “Show him in. Thank you, Collins.”

  Connor strode in and extended his hand. “Good day, Mr. Curry. I was on my way back from London and found myself near your estate. ”

  John Curry pushed himself out of his chair, and grasped Connor’s offered hand. “Yes, good to see you again, young man. I hope your business in London was concluded successfully.”

  “Indeed it was, sir.”

  “Have a seat, Preston.”

  Connor sat down in the chair in front of John’s desk. “Your estate is magnificent.”

  John returned to his seat. “Yes, yes it is. Will you be staying in the country long? I am hosting a fox hunt on Sunday next. Care to join us?”

  “I haven’t been on a good fox hunt in weeks. I would be delighted to join you. Thank you, sir.”

  “Excellent. It should be a good showing.”

  “Sir, I would be remiss if I didn’t pay my respects to your lovely wife and daughters,” Connor said.

  John chuckled. “Oh, indeed, it would be a travesty.” He picked up a small bell, and rang for the butler.

  Connor found himself chuckling along with the older man, who saw right through his ruse for the visit.

  When the butler arrived, John had two orders of business for him.

  “You needed something, sir?”

  “Yes, Collins. Add Mr. Preston’s name for the fox hunt, and please escort him to the parlor.”

  “Very good, sir.” Collins turned toward Connor. “If you would follow me, Mr. Preston, I will show you to the parlor.”

  Connor rose. “Looking forward to that fox hunt. Good day.”

  John nodded before returning to the mountain of paperwork strewn across his desk. Running an estate as large as his was not all foxhunts and pleasure.

  Connor could barely hide a smile as he followed Collins down the hall and through the gallery. He glanced around admiring the collection of paintings hanging on the walls.

  Yes, very nice indeed. He thought.

  Collins stopped at the parlor doorway. “Mrs. Curry, Mr. Preston is here to see you.”

  Mrs. Curry and her two daughters looked up. The ladies stood and gave Connor a curtsy.

  Connor strode into the room and bowed. “Mrs. Curry, it is pleasure to see you.”

  “Why, Mr. Preston, what a lovely surprise,” she said. “You are just in time. My youngest daughter, Abigail, was entertaining us on the harpsichord.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Curry. I would be delighted. I was in the area and could not pass by without paying my respects.” He turned toward Elizabeth. “Miss Curry, I hope you are well today.”

  The blonde beauty smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Preston. I am quite well.”

  Connor took a seat nearest the harpsichord. “Miss Abigail, will you play another tune?”

  Thirteen-year-old Abigail beamed at the attention. “Yes, of course. Let me find my music.”

  Mrs. Curry rang a small bell, and the housekeeper appeared. �
��Mrs. Ruther, please prepare tea for our guest.”

  The housekeeper curtsied. “Of course, Ma’am.” She quickly departed.

  “Mr. Preston, you said you were in the area today?” Mrs. Curry inquired.

  “Yes, I had business in town, and your lovely estate was on the road home. I’m afraid I have not seen much of you or your lovely daughters lately. I hope you have not been ill?”

  Elizabeth spoke first. “We have been at the shore, but I am so looking forward to the ball on Saturday next. Will you be attending, Mr. Preston?”

  “Indeed, Miss Curry. Perhaps you may grant me the pleasure of a quadrille or two?”

  Elizabeth’s intense, green eyes brightened. “That would be lovely. I look forward to seeing you then, Mr. Preston.”

  Abigail chose that moment to start playing a lively tune. Connor turned his attention to the young girl with a satisfied grin on his face.

  ***

  “Are you feeling poorly this evening?” Nesmith asked, while fixing Emily’s hair for dinner.

  Emily hesitated. She wanted to tell someone about the love letters that Mr. Preston had written to her, but should she wasn’t sure it would be wise to confide in Nesmith. She had been attending her for as long as she could remember, but what if Nesmith went to her mother with her confidence? Would Mama approve of her feelings for Mr. Preston? She could never tell anyone, except for Mia, about the stolen kiss though. Her father would be furious at such forward behavior by a gentleman. She was so torn over what to do. Should she wait for Mia’s reply? Mia could certainly advise her on the proper course of action.

  Emily shrugged her shoulders. “I am well, Nesmith. You fuss over me too much. Perhaps I am a bit tired, that’s all. I will retire straight away when the Richardsons leave, and tomorrow you will find me as good as new.”

  Nesmith nodded. “Let’s finish getting you dressed, then. Our guests will be arriving shortly.”

  ***

  “My compliments to your cook,” Mrs. Richardson said. “She is truly a gem. The meal was delicious.”

  Catherine nodded. “She is indeed. She has been with us these ten years now. We would be lost without her.”

  Ethan stole a glance at Emily. She looked beautiful tonight and he longed for a few moments to talk with her alone, but she seemed distracted tonight and not her usually bubbly self.

  When the meal was finished, Riley stood. “Gentlemen, shall we adjourn to my study for a spot of brandy? I’m sure the ladies would like a few moments to speak together. We shall join you in a bit, ladies.”

  Catherine nodded, and everyone pushed their chairs back from the table. Ethan and his father followed Riley into his study, while Mrs. Richardson and her fifteen-year-old daughter, Hannah, followed Catherine and Emily into the parlor.

  The evening was a blur for Emily. She remembered bits of dinner conversation here and there, but her mind was elsewhere.

  Before long, the gentlemen joined the ladies in the parlor. The couples were talking politics, Hannah wandered over to the piano, and Ethan joined Emily by the fireplace.

  “Miss Stanton, will we see you at the ball Saturday next?” Ethan waited for Emily’s response, but there was none forthcoming. “Miss Stanton?”

  Emily was startled out of her reverie. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Richardson. I’m afraid I did not hear your question.” A blush of embarrassment turned her cheeks pink. “Please forgive my inattentiveness.”

  “Not at all. I was inquiring if you will be attending the next ball.”

  “Yes; yes, we are.”

  Ethan gave Emily a shy smile. “I should be honored to request a spot on your dance card before all the spots are taken by every gentleman in the county.”

  Ethan’s question gave Emily pause. She wanted to be polite, but it was Mr. Preston’s name she wanted to see on her dance card, not Mr. Richardson’s.

  She gave him a smile that did not reach her eyes. It was not in her nature to be rude. “Yes, that will be lovely. I would be delighted to dance with you. Thank you, Mr. Richardson.”

  Before Ethan could say anything more, Hannah called him and Emily over to the piano. He smiled at his sister. “Yes, of course. Miss Stanton, shall we?”

  Emily nodded and went over to Hannah. “What a wonderful surprise? What will you play for us?”

  Ethan stood next to Emily content for the moment just to be in her company.

  ***

  When the evening ended, Nesmith helped her undress. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

  “Yes, it was lovely. Miss Hannah entertained us on the piano.”

  “That’s nice. Anything else?” Nesmith asked.

  “No, nothing of importance.”

  After she dismissed Nesmith for the night, Emily retrieved the small, intricately carved box from her desk. She brought it over to her bed, and opened the lid. She pulled the eight scraps of paper out. By candlelight, she read the letters over and over again. Each one ended with the line, “You are my Bright Star.”

  Silent tears coursed down her pretty face. “Oh, Connor, why do you torture me so? I am yours with all my heart.”

  Chapter 8

  It was two agonizingly long days before Emily received a reply from Mia. She was sitting in the parlor reading when Mrs. Jannell brought her the letter. She took the letter and immediately tore open the seal scanning the contents.

  My dearest Em,

  I read your letter with much distress. I do not like to see my dearest friend so upset. Of course, I will be happy to discuss the matter at length. I want nothing more than to ease your discomfort over this situation.

  Please consent to stay with me for a few days. Mr. Giles has graciously agreed to my request. He is such a dear man.

  It will be lovely to see you again. My best regards to your parents.

  In loving friendship,

  Mia

  Emily’s arms dropped down into her lap. She had been hoping that Mia would advise her immediately, but that was the case. She would have to wait until she saw Mia for her long-awaited advice. “Will there be anything else, Miss Stanton?” Mrs. Jannell asked.

  “Do you know where my mother is?”

  “I believe I saw her with her bonnet on, heading outside to the garden.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Jannell.” Emily stuffed the letter in her pocket, and went in search of her mother.

  She found her in the garden selecting the flowers for the week. Emily stopped at the edge of the flowerbed and watched her. Her mother was kind, graceful, and so beautiful. She looked stunning even in her day dress with her brunette hair pinned back in a bun, and a bonnet shading her lovely face from the sun. To see Mama still looking at Papa with such kind and loving eyes after all these years gave Emily hope that, someday, her own marriage would be filled with such love and respect.

  “Mama,” Emily called.

  Catherine looked over her shoulder. “Yes, dear; I will be there in a moment.” She finished giving instructions to the gardener about flowers for each evening meal, and walked toward Emily. “What is it?”

  Emily kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I have been invited to visit with Mia and Mr. Giles for a few days. May I go, Mama?”

  “How lovely of Mrs. Giles to invite you to stay with her. Yes, of course, you may go. I’ll give instructions to Joseph to prepare the coach for you.”

  “Thank you,” Emily said, giving her mother a quick hug.

  “Fine. Off you go now. Have Nesmith pack a bag for you.”

  Emily turned and hurried into the house and up the stairs. “Nesmith. Nesmith. I need you!”

  The lady’s maid came rushing into hall. “What is it, child? Are you ill?”

  “No, I’m fine. I have been invited to visit Mr. and Mrs. Giles. I need your help packing a bag.”

  Nesmith wiped her brow. “Thank goodness it is only a bag you wanted packed. You gave me such a fright.”

  Emily hugged the older woman. “I’m so sorry, Nesmith. I never meant to alarm you. I’m excited to see Mia
, that’s all.”

  “Very well, then. Let’s go select your things and pack them up. The sooner you are packed, the sooner you’ll see your friend.”

  The two women went to Emily’s bedchamber and started pulling clothes out to pack.

  An hour later, Emily was hurrying out the door. Riley and Catherine stood outside, waiting to say good-bye.

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed her father’s cheek. “’Bye, Papa. I’ll be back in a few days.”

  “Have a safe trip. Give my regards to Mr. Giles.”

  “I will.” Emily gave her mother a hug. “’Bye, Mama.”

  “Have a lovely visit, dear. Do ask if they would be pleased to come to dinner next time they are in town.”

  Emily nodded. “Of course, Mama. ‘Bye.”

  Joseph stood by the coach and took her hand helping her inside. He closed the door, hopped up to the driver’s seat, and cracked the reins to begin the journey.

  Emily waved out the window to her parents until they were mere specks in the distance. She settled back into the cushions for the long coach ride to the country.

  It took several hours to reach the Giles’ home. Emily watched as the older, stone house came into view. It was a solid structure, with plenty of windows to let in the sunlight. There was a lovely garden off one side, with a row of rose bushes fully in bloom. With 2,000 pounds per annum, Mr. Giles was providing a comfortable life for his new wife.

  At the clip-clop-clip-clop of the horses, Mia came to the door to greet her friend.

  Joseph reined in the horses and jumped down from the drivers seat. He helped Emily out of the coach going around to the back of the coach to retrieve her bag.

  Emily embraced her friend in a loving hug. “Mia, I have missed you so! Thank you kindly for the invitation to visit.”

  “I have missed you too. Please come in. I’ll have Mrs. Akins make us some tea.” Mia turned toward Joseph. “Please bring the bag inside, thank you.”