“My mother would be happy to help,” Jane suggested.
“Enough of me. What of your news?” Emma asked, diverting her cousin’s attention from the unwelcome idea.
Jane’s face was transformed by a huge smile. She leaned forward and whispered, “Melvyn has asked me to marry him!”
“Is this not good news? Why are we whispering?” Emma asked.
“Because he wants to marry before he returns to the Continent,” Jane replied sadly.
“When does he leave?”
“In less than a month.”
Emma was thoughtful as she calculated in her mind. “Which will not allow time for the banns to be called, since you missed this Sunday and they must be called three times.”
“Precisely. So we must go to Scotland,” Jane whispered.
“No, Jane, you must not,” Emma insisted. “You must speak to my aunt about this. It is not a poor match, so I am certain she would be willing to help rather than have her daughter elope. Perhaps you could obtain a special license.”
Jane shook her head. “Mama and Papa said no. Mama wants a grand wedding and time to prepare for it.”
“You have already asked?”
“Yes.” She dropped her head in her hands and began to weep.
“Can Lofton not obtain the special license?”
“It seems not. He would not explain. He said it is impossible for he is away for a few days.”
“Why cannot you wait until he returns again?” Emma did not understand the hurry. Jane would not be penniless without the marriage.
“Mama and Papa do not even want it announced until he returns. What if he were to die in battle?” she argued.
Emma had no answer to that, since her brother had recently died. “How do you propose to pull it off? Does Lofton have a plan?”
“When Mama and Papa go to Grandmama’s for a day, we can stay behind. It will give us more than a day’s head start. We will leave detailed letters and beg them not to stop us.”
“I cannot like it, Jane. If your parents do not support this, in the end there will be a huge scandal. I cannot believe Lofton would suggest it!”
“My parents abhor scandal, so they will go along with it. They do not oppose Lofton, only a hasty marriage. Will you help me, Emma?” Jane pleaded.
“If you are certain this is what you want, I will not stand in your way.”
Jane threw her arms around Emma in excitement, but Emma could only just keep herself from becoming ill.
Chapter Four
Emma had decisions to make. She had spoken with her aunt about Shelton, and any hint of ineligibility vanished from her aunt’s mind at hearing the word offer. Her uncle only stated Shelton had spoken with him and had proposed a handsome settlement—much more than he would have suspected the man even owned.
At this juncture, Emma suspected her mother would give her the same advice as her aunt and uncle if she found a man willing to take her with no dowry. She needed someone who could help her think through life beyond the vows. Her brother was no longer an option, and her aunt and cousin were little help. Would relying on her brother’s opinion be enough to erase her doubts caused by the viscount? It seemed to Emma as though the viscount’s objections were related to the army or perhaps some other offence to his masculine egotism, which she could easily dispense with.
Shelton’s estate, Newton Park, was in Dorsetshire, only a day’s travel from her mother and younger siblings; her brother’s education would be provided for, and her sister would have a dowry. It seemed too good to be true, and perhaps it was—not to mention being a lifelong decision. She supposed, as long as it provided for her family and she was not abused, the decision should be easy. She laughed to herself. It was not so different a decision from the one she had made to become a governess. However, she could always walk away from a post; she could not from a marriage.
Emma had no romantic feelings for Shelton, although she could acknowledge he was handsome. What if her feelings were to change? What if his expectations changed? Her uncle had assured her the funds for her family would be placed in a separate account upon the marriage and could not be tampered with. And that was what settled her decision.
As she dressed, she felt at peace having decided, and that was as much reassurance as she could give herself. She wished she felt such hope for her cousin.
Colonel Shelton was waiting for her alone when she entered the parlour. It was a pleasant room, cheery with afternoon sun, but it felt smaller with him as the centrepiece.
“Good afternoon, sir.”
“Miss Standrich.” He bowed.
“Shall we sit down?” She waved her hand to a chair, and he followed. “Sir, I have decided to accept your generous offer. I am still uncertain as to why, but it eases my mind greatly. Thank you.”
She was convinced a sigh of relief passed through him, and she grew more perplexed.
“I do trust you will find yourself content. I must return shortly to the Continent, so I have taken some liberties with arrangements. My uncle happens to be an archbishop—and my godfather—and was kind enough to sign a special license for us.”
“Your uncle is the archbishop?” Emma desperately wanted to question him about Lofton, but she held her tongue.
“Convenient, is it not?” He smiled slightly for the first time, and she at once thought she had best guard her heart.
“When shall the happy event take place, then?” she asked.
“The day after tomorrow, if you agree. Unfortunately, it will not allow time for your family to travel here, but I will make arrangements for them to travel to Dorsetshire soon after.”
“You are very kind, sir.”
“Please do not ever call me kind again,” he said stiffly, surprising her. “I have your aunt’s permission to take you out for the day to do some shopping.”
“To do some shopping?”
He nodded. “I would like you to select some items for Newton Park. You will be happier there if it feels like your own. It still boasts the furnishings from several generations past.”
“If that is your wish,” she agreed.
He escorted her out to a carriage and four and handed her inside.
“I hear your cousin is being courted by Lofton.”
“I suppose so, yes,” she said warily. “Nothing has been settled.”
“Your uncle mentioned Lofton had spoken to him during our discussion of settlements.”
“I wish I could feel happier for her,” she confessed. “Do you know Lord Lofton well, sir?”
“I do.” He sat quietly for a moment. “I would not wish the match for a daughter of mine.”
“Is that from personal feeling or professional?”
“Both,” he said candidly. “He appears a good match to society because he is titled and looks well in uniform, but I do not trust him by my side in battle. And I should not say such things without being willing to provide facts to substantiate them.”
“It was quite obvious to me that there was no love lost between the two of you. I promise to keep your feelings to myself, however, unless you can tell me something I should discuss with my uncle. I have sworn secrecy to my cousin, but if she is in danger, I will breach my word for such knowledge that would do her harm.”
“There is nothing I am at liberty to disclose at this juncture. I hope the situation will be resolved before such an event takes place, and my suspicions will be proved unfounded.”
“Very well. I only hope she will not act hastily.”
The carriage slowed, stopping before a shop on Bond Street, and he helped her to alight. What a strange sensation it all was. She was to be married in two days’ time to a complete stranger, and now she was to select colours for a house she had never seen—a house which would become her own with the union.
Emma never could have imagined selecting fabrics with her father. Shelton was surprisingly engaged and opinionated as he held up a fabric for her perusal.
“Primrose?” Emma ques
tioned. She had never considered the colour for a sofa or curtains—only for gowns.
“I do believe it is my new favourite colour.”
Emma glanced down at her gown and realized his meaning and looked away to hide her blush. Was he flirting with her? She never would have taken him for a tease.
“Perhaps the colour would be more appropriate for my dressing room.”
“I believe I prefer a blue for my bedchamber,” she said, running her fingers over an azure fabric.
“Then blue you shall have. Now I believe we only have one room remaining.”
“There is yet another room?” She was astonished, for they had already selected colours for four rooms. He was not acting as though his home were a simple cottage.
“Why, yes, the parlour. Would you fancy a coquelicot, perhaps? I can envision you in a field of poppies.”
“Thank you, sir. It is my favourite flower. I think it would look lovely in a parlour.”
“This was much easier than it would have been with my mother. You seem a sensible woman, Miss Standrich.”
“Poverty has a way of making one wise.”
He barked an appreciative laugh. “I would that I could prescribe it for some of my officers.”
“Including Lofton?”
“Especially Lofton,” he snapped.
His face took on a scowl, and she wished she had not mentioned it. She vastly preferred the pleasant side of Shelton. She suspected he did not reveal it often.
“My cousin,” she started and then paused. Was it breaking her word to reveal Jane’s plan to her betrothed?
“Lady Jane?” he prodded, his tone neutral.
“Yes. I fear for her.”
“Wait.” He ushered her out to the carriage, where many of their purchases were being loaded. When the door was closed and they were alone, he asked, “What is your fear for Lady Jane?”
“I gave my word,” she whispered. He nodded understanding. “Lofton is trying to coax her into eloping.”
“Whatever the devil for? I know he is up to something. I just wish I could pin him on it.”
“Is it he you suspect to be a spy?” she asked daringly.
He hesitated before answering. “Yes and no. He is clever, but I suspect not clever enough to manipulate entire armies. I cannot make the connection work, nor discover the mastermind. There is a piece missing.”
“Perhaps you underestimate him.”
He gave a slight nod of his head. “I hope we may discover the piece before your cousin is irrevocably linked to him.”
“Whatever can I do? Should I go to my uncle?”
“Not yet, but beg her to delay. We must think of something.”
“I will try,” she whispered.
“Do not worry, Emma. I will do my best to see this through. I intend to clear Christopher’s name as well.” Hearing him use her given name almost made her forget why they were drawn together in the first place.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I think it is time you called me Colin when we are alone.”
“I will try,” she said with a slight smile.
“I may not be a model husband, but I will never hurt you, Emma.”
He looked deep into her eyes, and reaching up, stroked a stray hair back from her face. Her stomach fluttered at his touch. He took her face in his hands and placed a tender kiss on her lips.
She felt so many conflicting emotions—not the least of which was a growing attraction to her future husband. She did not think him capable of murder. She felt he was genuine, and she knew somehow he would never purposely harm her. It was the unintentional hurt she was less certain of.
Emma walked through the garden, pondering how she might possibly find a way to delay Jane’s elopement without betraying her to her parents. She also wondered what she might do to help Shelton discover the piece of the puzzle he sought in order to solve the mystery of the spy.
“Very little,” she said out loud, feeling hopeless. She knew nothing other than Christopher’s mission to deliver the missive to “F.” It was not as if she could query every soldier she met or call upon the war office and browse through the files.
She let out an exasperated sigh. There was little time to discover either before her wedding and leaving London. At least she could seek out Jane to see if she could discover any new plans from her.
“Jane,” Emma offered by way of greeting when she joined her cousin in the shared sitting room between their bedrooms. “Why the sad face?”
“Our plans have been delayed. Melvyn had some business to attend to and will be away for a fortnight.”
“What kind of business?” Emma somehow restrained herself from dancing in jubilee.
Jane waved her hand dismissively “You know, business.”
“I suppose he must have estate duties to attend to when he is home.”
“Yes, yes, but it will ruin everything!”
“Why did you not go there on the way to Scotland?”
Jane frowned. “I wish I had thought of it!” She began to cry.
“No matter,” Emma said as she sat next to her cousin and comforted her. “It is for the best. You do not wish to elope, Jane.”
“I don’t?”
“No, dear. The news would certainly leak out through servants or someone seeing you en route. Your marriage would forever be tainted or, at the very least, whispered about.”
“I suppose you are right.” Jane gave a sad sigh.
“I promise you, the romance of it would wear quickly. And if it failed, no one else would have you.”
“No one?” she squeaked. Jane looked at her askance, as though she had not considered this.
“Besides, you are far too beautiful not to have a grand London wedding. I have always pictured you in a beautiful lace gown, walking down the aisle to a large crowd in the rectory, with flowers lining the pews.”
“You have?” Jane asked thoughtfully.
“I have, though I will not have the opportunity to do so myself. It would mean a great deal if you would stand up with me tomorrow,” Emma said.
“Of course,” her cousin answered sweetly. She seemed genuinely happy for Emma. “I only wish Melvyn and Shelton were cordial.”
“I know. It must be something from the army or long ago. It does seem deeper than mere dislike.”
“Yes. Can you believe Melvyn thinks Shelton is responsible for Christopher’s death?”
“I beg your pardon? He said so?”
Jane looked guilty, but she nodded.
“I see. Did he say anything else about Christopher?”
“Only that the poor boy had been brainwashed by Shelton and had been used as his pawn,” she said distractedly, fidgeting with some of her golden curls.
“How can I know the truth?” Emma demanded, throwing her hands up in frustration and pacing the room. “Shelton says similar things of Lofton. I fear one of us is going to attach ourselves to a snake.”
“Now, Emma, do not exaggerate. These men are commanders in the army. They are not about to do anything monstrous. They are gentlemen! I am sure it is nothing more than prideful boasts or jealousy.”
“Perhaps. However, my brother died, and I do not wish to marry the person responsible, if that is the case!” she exclaimed.
“Even if he were responsible in name, it does not seem he were guilty in intention. He seems to wish to do right by the Standrich family.”
Emma sat down and sighed with annoyance. “I suppose so. However, my principles will not feed the mouths of my family. If only we could discover who ‘F’ is, perhaps I could put Christopher’s death behind me.”
“Do you think my father could be of help? Certainly he could narrow down the field. He is involved with the war office to some extent.”
“He is? I was unaware of that. Do you think he would be willing to enquire for me?”
“Christopher was his nephew,” Jane pointed out.
“I suppose it cannot hurt to ask.”
“Why
can you not ask Shelton who the missive was written to?”
“I suppose I could.” She pondered the notion. “But how can I know which of them to trust?” Her instinct told her not to trust Lofton, but she did not want to hurt Jane unless she had proof.
“Let us ask Father first, then,” Jane said. Rising, she walked to her father’s study with Emma trailing behind.
After Emma had explained her suspicions to Lord Wetherby, he sat for some time contemplating the situation.
“Why are you only now telling me this, Emma? The greater the time elapsed after an event, the harder it is to discover the truth.”
“I thought you would think me silly. I had hoped to determine something on my own. But Shelton affirmed my suspicions with his own and told me to be aware of the danger.”
“I agree. This is certainly not business for a young lady to be involved in. I will look into this situation myself. It never did sit right with me that Christopher was killed running a simple message to another officer, and then some have tried to blame him for giving away our movements to the French.”
“He would never be so careless,” Emma swiftly defended her sibling.
“Nor traitorous,” her uncle added. “Unless perhaps he was the poor pawn of someone he trusted so deeply not to question. This is much deeper than I could have imagined. Emma, you need to distance yourself from this and feign ignorance. Jane, you do not discuss it outside this room, do you understand me?”
“Of course, Papa.”
“I made a list of all of the officers I am aware of whose names begin with F,” Emma said. “But I know little about any troop movements or who would have been in a position to receive such a message.” She handed him a paper with the names Faircloth, Felton, Fletcher, Fawkes, Frey, and Fuller written on it—all men Christopher had written about over the years.
“You would not, no. And if you ask any questions, word may get back to the wrong people.”
“Yes, ladies should not know about these things,” Jane added unhelpfully.
“I will call on your betrothed to see if I may be of assistance to him,” Lord Wetherby said to Emma.
“Thank you, Uncle. And please do be careful, yourself.”
A Season in London (Timeless Regency Collection Book 6) Page 3