by Sandra Heath
The moment Lord Avenley spoke to her, Saunders stood aside to admit him, and Emma’s heart sank still further as it became clear that she had no option but to receive him. Angry with herself for having been so silly as to let herself be seen, she stepped reluctantly into the hall, waiting there as the butler relieved the caller of his hat, gloves, and cane.
Toying with his cuff, Lord Avenley approached her, his eye raking her deliberately from head to toe. “How very fortunate that you should be at home, Miss Rutherford,’’ he murmured, taking her hand and drawing it to his lips.
It was all she could do not to shudder visibly at his touch, for she found him everything that was repellent. His voice was soft and smooth, and his single eye shone with too bright and reptilian a light.
He smiled a little. “I am glad of this opportunity to speak to you again, Miss Rutherford, for it seems that our meeting last night may have set us off on a rather unfortunate foot.”
“I cannot agree, sir, since I cannot imagine that anything fortunate could ever adhere to our dealings with each other,” she replied coolly.
He raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? How very frosty you are, to be sure.”
“Can you wonder at it? I am hardly likely to regard you in a favorable light, Lord Avenley, for you have led my brother into a great deal of debt.”
Remembering that her father was still asleep in the library, the door of which was open, she lowered her voice a little. “You must have known that Stephen was in no financial position to play for such high stakes, but still you let him plunge further in. I find that totally despicable, my lord, and I will certainly never regard you in a favorable light.”
The ghost of a smile played on his thin lips. “How very delightful you are when you are angry, Miss Rutherford. I vow I find you quite irresistible.”
She recoiled with a mixture of distaste and startlement. “I beg your pardon?”
“I merely paid you a gallant compliment, Miss Rutherford, so pray do not look so wide-eyed and alarmed.”
“I do not care for your compliments, Lord Avenley.”
“Maybe not, but I am sure you care about your brother’s debts.”
She searched his face. “What do you mean by that?”
“Mean? My dear Miss Rutherford, you should not seek a hidden purpose in every sentence, for I am all that is open and honest.”
Her eyes flickered. Open and honest? Pigs would fly at Portland Bill before that would apply to him!
He affected to look offended at her disbelieving expression. “I am of a mind to take offense, Miss Rutherford, for in truth I do not mean any harm. If you are concerned that Stephen’s lOU’s will be difficult to redeem, let me assure you that it will prove a remarkably simple process.”
“I don’t understand. In what way will it be simple?”
He glanced at his fob watch. “Good heavens, is that the time? I fear I must go now, Miss Rutherford. It was very pleasant indeed to speak to you again. I was afraid that my first impression at the theater might have been erroneous, but I know now that it was not. Au revoir.”
Sketching her an elaborate bow, he turned to the console table, where Saunders was waiting to hand him his hat, gloves, and cane. Then he bowed to her again, before strolling out, the cane swinging in his hand.
Saunders closed the door behind him and then returned to where she stood. “Is there anything you wish, madam?” he inquired.
“Yes, Saunders, I trust that you will not mention my brother’s debts in the kitchen, for if Jacob should hear of it, and see fit to carry tales to my father …”
“I will not say a word, madam.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Saunders.”
“Madam,” he replied, bowing.
She turned to go to the staircase, but then paused again. “When Lord Kane calls shortly, you will be sure to show him up to the drawing room, won’t you? It is important that I speak privately with him before we leave.”
“Very well, madam.”
She went slowly up the staircase, her eyes downcast to the marble steps. What would the outcome be of this confrontation with Gerald? Maybe it would not go well, and not only would there be no visit to his grandfather at Cranforth House, but maybe she would soon be on her way home to Dorchester, the match a thing of the past.
Chapter Eleven
The Kane Keepsake glittered on its bed of crimson velvet. Emma gazed at the symbol of her forthcoming match, and then she quietly closed the leather case, hiding it in the depths of her brown fur muff.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to Dolly. “How do I look?’’
“You look beautiful, Miss Emma,” replied the maid, her satisfied glance taking in her mistress’s stylish figure.
For the visit to Cranforth House, Emma wore a sage-green woolen mantle, fitted tightly at the waist by a wide self-belt with an oval gold buckle. The mantle was lavishly trimmed at the hem and collar with soft dark-brown fur, and there was more of the same fur adorning the brim of her brown velvet hat. On her feet there were neat little brown kid ankle boots, and she carried a reticule that was small enough to conceal in the capacious muff.
Her hair was dressed up into a knot beneath her hat, with a frame of soft curls around her face. Surveying her with much gratification, Dolly was content that there was not a maid in the whole of London whose mistress would be better turned out than Miss Emma Rutherford.
Without another word, Emma left the room to make her way down to the drawing room, where Gerald was waiting. At the elegant double doors she paused for another moment; then she opened the doors and went inside.
Gerald was standing facing the fireplace, his face aglow with flamelight, and he turned swiftly as she entered. He wore a wine-red coat, cream brocade waistcoat, and tight gray breeches, and a discreet pearl pin adorned the knot of his softly tied neckcloth.
His penetrating gray eyes met hers without any hesitation, and he smiled. “Good afternoon, Emma,” he said.
It came as something of a shock to hear her first name on his lips. She’d quite forgotten their agreement on last parting, and the lapse of memory on her part robbed her of her carefully summoned impetus. “G-good afternoon,” she replied, unable to bring herself to say his name.
He looked curiously at her. “Is something wrong? Is your father—?”
“My father is quite well, my lord,” she said quickly.
He raised an eyebrow. “My lord? Is convention to be imposed after all?”
“It may be that it has to be, Lord Kane. I have something to say to you.”
“Something serious, it seems,” he murmured, studying her closely. “Well, do proceed, Miss Rutherford, and by all means let us be formal, if that is what you wish.”
Dull color had begun to seep into her cheeks, and she felt dreadful, but she had no choice, she had to confront him. “Lord Kane, I know that you have gone to some lengths to reassure me that your heart is fully in this match, but—”
“There are no buts about it, Miss Rutherford, my heart is fully in the match.’’ He came a little closer. “What has happened to make you again doubt my commitment?”
She lowered her eyes. “At the theater last night—’’ she began.
His eyes sharpened. “Avenley?” he interrupted brusquely.
“No, my lord, not Lord Avenley. The Countess of Purbeck.’’
His gaze was intense, “What did she say?”
“She simply made it plain that she disliked me, but she also hinted that the Earl of Cranforth is set against me as your second bride.”
“That isn’t true, as I believe I have already said.”
Emma met his eyes again. “Then, this morning, when Stephen accompanied me to Hatchard’s bookshop, the countess singled me out again. She repeated that your grandfather is against the match, and she also said that she was your confidante, and that she had it on your own authority that you are beginning to have second thoughts about me.”
“And you are prepared to take her word on such an important matter?”
His tone was more than a little clipped.
“The countess is very convincing, my lord.”
“So it seems. Well, Miss Rutherford, what exactly do you wish me to say? I’ve already promised that I intend to proceed with the match and that I will treat you honorably. I’ve endeavored to assure you that I will do all I can to make ours a happy marriage, and by giving you the Keepsake I had hoped to allay your understandable fears.
“As to my grandfather’s opposition, let me say again that it simply does not exist, nor does my so-called confidence in the Countess of Purbeck. That particular lady is no longer a friend of mine, indeed my dealings with her have become barely civil, owing to certain aspects of her conduct. What she is doing to you now is nothing more or less than spitefulness, and I have to say that I am more than a little disappointed that you should take her word before mine.’’
Emma lowered her eyes. “Surely you understand my position, Lord Kane. I am fresh from the country, I know nothing about you, and nothing about your life here in London, and that places me at a great disadvantage.”
“Disadvantage?” There was a sudden flash of anger in his eyes. “Miss Rutherford, you are soon to become Lady Kane, and in the due course of time you will be the Countess of Cranforth, with all the privilege and position that that rank entails. What in God’s name is disadvantageous about that?” Realizing that his tone had been too harsh, he looked apologetically at her. “Forgive me, I did not mean to sound—’’
“Perhaps I deserve it, my lord,” she interrupted, raising her glance to his again. “Maybe I am entirely in the wrong in allowing the countess to upset me.”
“She is a woman of experience, and knows full well how to go about such things. I only wish you would realize that she is moved solely by malice, and that the truth plays very little part in her philosophy.”
“Why is she so bitter toward me?”
“I would prefer not to answer that,” he replied after a moment.
“Please tell me.”
He exhaled slowly, running his fingers through his dark hair. “If I tell you what you wish to know, I fear it will mean a very embarrassing admission on my part.”
“Embarrassing?”
He smiled a little ruefully. “I may have been a widower for some time now, Miss Rutherford, but I have to confess that I have not been living a particularly cloistered and monkish life. I have enjoyed a number of brief dalliances, none of them amounting to anything of any seriousness, but only on one occasion have I broken a very strict rule that has always governed my conduct, that of never toying with other men’s wives. That single fall from grace on my part took place one night last spring with the Countess of Purbeck, and it is something that I have regretted ever since.”
Color flooded into Emma’s cheeks.
He gave another rueful smile. “Forgive me for telling you such things, Miss Rutherford, but since the truth was a requisite in these proceedings, then the truth is what you must have. I am not proud of myself for having broken the rule, and if I could turn the clock back, believe me I would, for the countess has proved to be a veritable thorn in my side ever since. She will not accept that our brief encounter was a single event, never to be repeated, and she has not ceased to try to win me back ever since. She did not take kindly to learning of my impending betrothal, and she is doing her utmost to see that it never takes place. That is why she is so very unpleasant toward you and Stephen.”
Emma turned away. Suddenly so much was explained, and she could see Raine clearly. The venom and spite were jealousy, nothing more and nothing less. The unparalleled Countess of Purbeck was jealous of plain Emma Rutherford!
Gerald drew a long breath. “I didn’t want to tell you something that revealed me in a shabby light, Miss Rutherford, and I certainly did not wish to speak of matters which a gentleman should never mention in front of a lady, least of all the lady he hopes to marry.”
“I may be fresh from the country, sir, but I am not entirely green,” she replied. “I do know that there are very few monks in this day and age.”
“I regret now that I did not explain the situation a little earlier, but I will do all I can to ensure that the countess does not approach you again.”
“I do not think that she intends to approach me again, my lord, for she has told me she means to have me ostracized by society.”
He seemed amused. “Does she indeed? Well, influential she may be, but not that influential. Not even the Prince of Wales has the power to decree that any particular person is to be snubbed by the entire beau monde. She may have her own coterie of friends, and she may be the toast of London, but she is most definitely not the be-all and end-all of society’s existence. I can tell you that all she is trying to do is make you cut and run.”
For a long moment Emma was silent, but then she took the Keepsake and its case from her muff and laid it on the table beside her. “If that is her intention, then she has come very close to succeeding,” she said softly.
He looked at the red leather case. “You meant to return it to me and end the match?”
“If you had not told me the truth.”
“It is the truth, I promise you. And when I say that I deeply regret having broken my own rules where the countess was concerned, that also is the truth. I have very particular reasons for wanting to avoid other men’s wives, for I know only too well…” He broke off, turning away. “Because I know only too well the pain of being a betrayed husband,” he finished quietly.
Emma stared at him. Margot? Margot had been unfaithful to him?
He glanced at her again. “My marriage was not the joyous thing it appeared to be, and was already effectively at an end when Margot was killed. Oh, I was grief-stricken afterward, grief-stricken that I had been taken for such a fool, and if I continued to wear my wedding ring, it was as a reminder never to rush blindly into another match.”
Emma was so startled by these revelations that she could only stand there.
He smiled a little, and faced her properly again. “I have never told anyone about this, apart from my grandfather, but it is something else that I think you now have the right to know. You asked me once if I compare you to Margot and find you lacking. Well, perhaps now you realize that there is absolutely no comparison between you and Margot, and that if anyone is lacking, then it is she.”
“I … I had no idea.”
“The facts of my previous marriage are hardly such that I would wish them spread around London. I would prefer to forget I ever knew Margot.” His glance moved to the red leather case on the table. “What do you wish to do, Emma? Does the match stand, or would you prefer to cry off?”
She could hear her own heartbeats. A huge weight seemed to have been lifted from her. She didn’t have to fight the ghost of his first wife! Margot was not the flawless angel she’d feared, but had had feet of clay! Her lips trembled so much that she could barely manage to smile at him.
“I wish the match to stand, Gerald,” she whispered. Nothing else mattered now. Let the Countess of Purbeck do her worst, let her try her utmost, for she would not succeed!
Gerald came to her, putting his hand briefly to her cheek. “I’m glad, Emma, for I truly wish to make you my wife.” He looked into her green eyes. “Please don’t doubt me again, for there is no need.”
“Forgive me.” Her skin burned beneath his hand.
“There is nothing to forgive.’’ He took his hand away, turning to look at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Well, since we are to proceed with everything, I think it is time we left for Cranforth House, otherwise we will be late.”
Dolly was waiting outside the drawing-room doors, for she was to accompany them in order to satisfy propriety, and Emma quickly told her to return the Keepsake to her room before rejoining them in the hall.
Several minutes later, followed by the maid, she and Gerald emerged from the house to enter the waiting carriage, which immediately conveyed them to Park Lane.
*
Cranforth
House was bright in the September sunshine as the carriage swept in between the phoenix-decorated gates and came to a standstill beneath the grand porch.
Gerald alighted, his boots crunching on the freshly raked gravel as he turned to hold his hand out to Emma. He paused before assisting her down. “Please don’t be nervous, because I promise you faithfully that my grandfather is not in any way opposed to our match. You do believe me, don’t you?”
She smiled into his eyes. “Yes,” she answered. She was so happy that she felt as if she were floating. He had confided in her, and she was closer to him at last.
“Are you quite certain of that?” he asked lightly.
“Quite.”
“I’m relieved to hear it,” he murmured, assisting her down. Then he was thoughtful enough to help Dolly as well, and the maid’s cheeks became instantly pink, for it was not often that a gentleman of rank concerned himself with the welfare of a mere maid.
A footman in splendid green-and-gold livery admitted them to a vast marble entrance hall, where a black double staircase rose to the floor above. The staircase’s rail was golden, and its newel posts were gilded likenesses of the Fitzroy phoenix. The phoenix appeared again and again, in the marble tiles on the floor, in the gilded plasterwork adorning the walls and doorways, and was woven into the upholstery of the exquisite sofas and chairs against the walls.
Their reflections looked back at them from the mirror above the marble fireplace as the footman conducted them toward the rear of the ground floor, where the earl had elected to receive them in the conservatory that overlooked the famous gardens.
To reach it, they had to cross the glittering ballroom, where on Halloween their betrothal ball would be held. The walls were paneled alternately with mirrors and murals of classical scenes, and from the lofty golden ceiling there was suspended a positive battery of fine crystal chandeliers. Tall French windows opened into the conservatory, which was adjacent, and as they followed the footman across the ballroom’s polished parquet floor, the smell of tropical foliage drifted toward them.
The sun streamed in through the glass, and the air was filled with the gentle splash of water from the ornamental fountains that played among the shrubs and palms. Everything smelled of warm, damp earth, but not of flowers, even though there were some very exotic blooms among the leaves.