by Sandra Heath
In the Chinese room, Emma was also wondering how Gerald would react on being informed that she had come to the house. How would he explain away the Countess of Purbeck, if indeed he bothered to explain at all? She, Emma, had been forced into deception against her will, but Gerald was himself guilty not only of deception, but also of a great deal more as well, apparently. Had the countess ever left London in the first place? Or had she been here all along?
Dolly watched her mistress’s sad withdrawn face and then lowered her own eyes. Nothing had gone well for poor Miss Emma since they’d left Dorchester, and the maid wished with all her heart that they’d all stayed at Foxley Hall, where there had not been any unhappiness or sly tricks. London was not to be trusted, for here all was treachery.
The butler returned, his expression a little relieved because he had not received a reprimand for the awkward state of affairs. Instead Lord Kane had merely instructed him to inform Miss Rutherford that he would await her in the drawing room. The butler bowed as he entered the Chinese room. “Miss Rutherford, Lord Kane will receive you in the drawing room as soon as you are ready.”
“Very well. I will go to him now,” she replied, for there was no point in delaying the moment, and besides, Stephen wasn’t in any condition to even know that she was there. She nodded at Dolly. “Bring my cloak and gloves, for I do not think we will stay long,” she said.
“Yes, Miss Emma.”
The butler conducted them back to the floor below, and Emma left Dolly outside as she went into the drawing room.
Gerald was waiting with his back to the fireplace. He still wore his green silk dressing gown, with beneath it a frilled white shirt and cream kerseymere breeches. The shirt was undone at the throat, and his dark hair was tousled. His eyes were very cool and gray in the light from the chandeliers as he faced her. There was no smile on his lips, and no welcome in his manner. He didn’t say anything.
The doors closed once more as the butler withdrew, and the two looked silently at each other, neither wishing to be the first to speak. Gerald’s glance moved fleetingly over her, taking in the dainty peach-and-white-striped muslin gown and the way her hairpins only just seemed able to contain her heavy curls. He thought how direct and uncomplicated she seemed, and he marveled again that he had been so taken in by her air of innocence. She was not what she appeared to be, any more than faithless Margot had been, and it was as well that he had found out now rather than later.
At last he inclined his head to her and broke the silence. “Miss Rutherford,” he said coldly.
She took the cue and replied in the same formal vein. “Lord Kane.”
“I trust that you are now recovered from your indisposition?”
“l am. Thank you.” Her heart was splintering into fragments with each frozen word, but she did not show it. Her voice was steady, and she did not shrink from meeting his eyes.
“I am very sorry that your brother is so ill, but I assure you that he will receive every attention while he remains under this roof, as I am told by the physician he must.”
“You are most kind, my lord.”
“You are, of course, most welcome to call upon him each day, and to sit with him if you wish.”
“Thank you.” Suddenly his chill manner touched a nerve in her. “I am sure that any calls I may make will be made most proper by the Countess of Purbeck’s presence,’’ she added, for the first time not quite able to hide the tremor in her voice.
An angry light passed through his eyes. “Do not presume to act the betrayed soul, Miss Rutherford, for it is a role to which you are singularly ill-suited.”
She stared at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, come now, I think you know full well.”
“All I know full well is that you have been found out, sirrah!” she cried. “Your lies have been monstrous, and I deeply regret that I was so easily gulled into believing you to be both honorable and sincere.”
He looked incredulously at her. “My lies? You really do have face, madam! I marvel that you can so blatantly ape the innocent, when all the time your perfidy has been staggering.”
Her eyes flashed. “Your mistress is here in this house, and you accuse me of perfidy?” she breathed. “What price your claim to never seducing other men’s wives and to regretting a so-called single night of folly last spring? How dare you point a finger at me, when your conscience is anything but clear!” She was shaking with anger and distress. This wasn’t happening, it simply wasn’t happening….
“Oh, you missed your vocation, madam, for in truth you should be treading the boards with the likes of Mrs. Siddons,’’ he replied icily. “I really believed your playacting last night, when you pretended to be on the verge of a faint, but it was all a stratagem so that you could slip away to Avenley!”
Her breath caught guiltily, and dismay rushed weakeningly through her.
His lips twisted bitterly. “Your culpability is written very large and clear, madam, but you could not have denied it anyway, for you were seen, both by Castlereagh and by Jerry Warburton. I will not inquire what your purpose was in going there, but I can imagine it well enough.”
“You cannot imagine it at all, sir, and so I will tell you.”
“No, Miss Rutherford,” he said, holding up a hand to stem her explanation. “I don’t want to know what you have to say, for it is evident to me that we are most definitely not suited.”
“You will not hear me out? You don’t want to know why my brother left the house tonight, or why—?”
“No, madam, I do not,” he interrupted, his tone as frosty as his eyes. “I think we should just leave it that you have been caught in your untruths.”
She felt as if she was in a nightmare, but she knew that it was all only too real and that she wouldn’t awaken, because she was awake already. She made herself meet his gaze.
“If I have been caught in untruths, sirrah, then so have you. You told me that the countess meant nothing to you, and that she had gone to the country to be with her husband, and yet here she is with you.”
“I don’t think that the countess’s whereabouts are anything to do with you, madam, and as to my so-called untruths, let me reiterate that I have always told you the facts as they truly are. From the moment you chose to indulge in whatever it is you are indulging in with Avenley, you left me no choice but to end all thought of our betrothal. Accordingly, I am now informing you that negotiations for our match are at an end, and I request only that you return the Keepsake, which is, as you know, a family heirloom.”
She felt numb. Her world was in tatters around her, he was refusing to even listen to her, and at the same time he was behaving as if justice was on his side for having the countess in his house. She, Emma Rutherford, was innocent, but she was being blamed. As for returning the Keepsake … Her head was spinning with confusion, and although she tried to speak, the words simply would not come.
He spoke again. “Have I made my position clear to you, Miss Rutherford?”
“Very clear indeed, Lord Kane.”
“I trust then that you will return the Keepsake at the earliest possible moment.”
She stared at him. What could she say? She didn’t have the Keepsake, Lord Avenley did, but she was certain that Gerald would not listen if she tried to tell him.
Suddenly she couldn’t even bring herself to try to explain; all she wanted was to escape from his presence, to hide away somewhere. Somehow she contrived to look into his eyes again. “I accept that there will not now be a contract between us, Lord Kane, and I will return the Keepsake; as soon as I can.’’
But how? How was she going to retrieve it, if not by surrendering to Lord Avenley’s shameful terms?
She turned and went to the door. Tears stung her eyes, but she was determined that he would not see them. As she emerged, Dolly looked at her in dismay. “Oh, Miss Emma—”
“Let us leave as quickly as possible,” Emma replied quietly, hurrying to the staircase.
; The maid hastened after her, speaking in a whisper. “Did you tell him about Lord Avenley, miss?”
“He didn’t want to hear anything I might have to say.”
“But what will you do?”
“I don’t know.” Emma’s voice caught on a sob, and she halted for a moment, her hand on the banister. “The match is over, Dolly, and he wants me to return the Keepsake as soon as possible.”
The maid stared at her. “Return it? But—”
“I know, Dolly. I know.”
“You cannot mean to do as Lord Avenley wants?”
“Dolly, I feel so trapped by everything that I begin to see no other way out.”
The maid put an anxious hand on her arm. “Please don’t, Miss Emma. You must tell Mr. Rutherford all that has happened. Please say you will tell him, miss.”
“It will break his heart if I tell him, Dolly.”
“It will break his heart if you don’t, miss,’’ the maid replied wisely. “Besides, you will have to tell him if the match is over, and you will have to give him an explanation. Better the truth than lies he may detect.”
For a long moment Emma was silent, but then she nodded slowly. “You’re right, Dolly. I have to tell my father.”
Dolly’s eyes were bright with tears as she helped Emma with her cloak, and then they proceeded down to the entrance hall, where Gerald’s butler was waiting to open the door for them.
They emerged into the bitterly cold early-morning air, where the brightness of the rising sun was luminous through the haze of frost. Emma did not glance back as the carriage pulled away.
From an upstairs window Raine watched the carriage depart. A faint smile played upon her lovely lips, and there was triumph in her lilac eyes. She had vanquished her provincial foe, and that was all that mattered.
Chapter Twenty-one
Mr. Rutherford had still not returned when Emma reached the house in Grosvenor Square, and so Saunders was requested to send a footman to him without further delay, to inform him what had happened to Stephen.
Emma now fully accepted that her father should be told absolutely everything, and so, with the prospect of a very painful and difficult interview ahead, she waited in the library. Dolly tried to persuade her to take some breakfast, but she had no appetite at all, and could only be prevailed upon to drink a cup of strong black coffee.
A fresh fire had been kindled in the hearth, and the smell of the coffee mingled pleasantly with the leather of the armchairs and the bindings on the books lining the shelves. Outside, the sun had risen now, and the rays shone brightly in through the French windows. The garden was crisp and cold, with splashes of bright color from the Michaelmas daisies and those of the roses that still remained after the recent frost.
Autumn tints glowed in the trees, and webs glistened like diamond-threaded lace among the leaves and branches. The sky was an incredible blue, and the air was so clear that it seemed she could see forever beyond the nearby rooftops. How beautiful it all looked, and how at odds with the misery and sense of injustice that enveloped her.
The clock on the mantelpiece ticked slowly, and the fire shifted in the hearth. She could hear the servants going about their morning tasks, and, more distantly, she could hear the street calls in the square. She heard the front door open as her father came in response to her message, and steeled herself for the next few minutes.
The last thing she wished to do was acquaint him with what he was about to hear, but she no longer had any choice. Dolly was right, it was unthinkable that she could actually submit to Lord Avenley’s despicable terms, and so her poor father had to learn what had been taking place.
She rose to her feet, pressing her trembling palms to the soft folds of her muslin gown, and she raised her chin as bravely as she could as the door of the library opened to admit her anxious father.
He hadn’t paused for Saunders to remove his warm cloak or his hat and gloves, and his eyes were full of concern as he hastened toward her. “What is all this, my dear? Stephen has suffered a setback?”
“Yes, I fear he has, Father.”
“I must go up to him without further delay—”
“He isn’t here, Father, he’s at Lord Kane’s house in St. James’s Square,” she interrupted quietly.
He stared at her, totally nonplussed. “He’s where? Whatever is he doing there? He was expressly forbidden to leave his bed.”
“Please sit down, Father, for there is something I have to tell you.”
He searched her pale, drawn face. “What is it, Emma? What’s wrong?” he asked, obeying her by going to sit in one of the armchairs. The firelight danced in his eyes as he looked anxiously up at her.
A lump rose in her throat, and she hesitated for a moment. “I don’t want to tell you any of this, but I am afraid that I must,’’ she said unhappily, and then she began to relate everything that had happened, from Stephen’s gambling debts and her troubles with the Countess of Purbeck, to Gerald’s infidelities and Lord Avenley’s shameful plotting and blackmail. She ended with Gerald’s decision to withdraw from the match.
As her voice died away on the last word, there was silence in the room. The fire crackled, sending a shower of sparks fleeing up the chimney, and the clock began to chime the hour, the sweet bell-like notes ringing gently over the room.
Emma could no longer hold back her tears, and hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she wept. Her father rose quickly to his feet, putting his arms sorrowfully around her.
“Oh, my dear, my dear …”
“What am I to do, Father? How can I possibly get the Keepsake back in order to return it to Lord Kane? And then there are the lOU’s as well. If I don’t do as Lord Avenley says—”
“You will never bow to his loathsome demands! Never!” breathed her father, his eyes furious and outraged as he thought of that lord’s base conduct.
“But he has the Keepsake and Stephen’s notes!”
“I will meet your brother’s debts, so rest assured upon that point. As to the Keepsake, well, I’m afraid that Lord Kane will have to be informed that Lord Avenley has stolen it.”
She drew sharply away. “If we do that, then Lord Avenley will deny all knowledge of it, and he will say that I have been pursuing him.”
“Lord Kane will surely never believe such a malicious fabrication.”
In spite of her tears, Emma gave a wry and bitter smile. “Oh, he will believe it, Father, you may take my word for that. Lord Kane is disposed to think only ill of me, even though he is the one stained with guilt.”
Mr. Rutherford shook his head helplessly. “I would have staked my life that Kane was an honorable man, I would even have gone so far as to say that he was as warmly disposed toward you as you were toward him. And now you say that the countess is at his house at this very moment?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Rutherford’s eyes filled with sadness at the emptiness in his daughter’s voice. “I’m so very sorry, my dear.”
More tears welled from her eyes, drawn forth by his kindness and understanding. He pulled her close again, resting his cheek against her dark, shining hair. “We will sort it out somehow, my dear,” he murmured.
“But how? How can we possibly prove that Lord Avenley has the Keepsake? He has all the trumps, Father, just as he said he did.”
“We’ll think of something,” he whispered, but his eyes were anxious.
Her voice was choked. “Whichever way I turn, whatever I do, I am faced with scandal and ruin. I will have no reputation left after this, no reputation at all.”
*
At that moment, unknown to Emma, Dolly was on her way back to Gerald’s house in St. James’s Square. The maid had decided that she must do all she could to assist her wronged, unhappy mistress, and so she meant to somehow speak to Gerald, to tell him exactly what had transpired at Avenley House. She did not know how she would achieve this, for it was unlikely that he would agree to receive her, but at the very least she meant to try.
Anticipating the arrival of this second vehicle, Gerald’s butler opened the door of the house immediately he heard a carriage draw up outside. He was startled to discover that the vehicle he had heard was not the one he expected, and he was even more startled to find himself face to face with Miss Rutherford’s maid.
Glancing past her in case Emma herself was also there, he then gave Dolly a rather disapproving look. “Front doors aren’t for the likes of you, my girl,’’ he said loftily, jerking his thumb to indicate that she should go around to the back of the house.
Dolly held her ground, for she had seen beyond him into the entrance hall, where the Countess of Purbeck was at that very moment taking her leave of Lord Kane. The countess’s own maid stood nearby, next to her mistress’s luggage, and her eyes were downcast as she toyed with the strings of her little brown cloak.
The countess was very beautiful indeed in a peacock silk gown and matching pelisse, and she wore a wide-brimmed black corded silk hat that was adorned with artificial flowers. The brim hid her face, and she was too far away for Dolly to hear what she was saying.
Gerald glanced toward the door, his eyes changing as he recognized Dolly, but he said nothing, for he was listening to Raine.
The butler was irritated that Dolly had not immediately obeyed his instructions. “To the back door with you, girl,” he ordered, jerking his thumb again.
“I must speak with Lord Kane,” she replied, standing up to him.
The second carriage was drawing up just behind hers, and the butler was momentarily distracted. Dolly seized the moment, ducking beneath his arm and hurrying into the hall.