The Suitable Bride
The Emberton Brothers, Book 2
KAREN AMINADRA
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Published in 2016 by Flourish Publishing
Copyright © 2016 Karen Aminadra.
This is a work of fiction. All names and characters in this book are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental and is not intended by the author.
The author has asserted their moral right under the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Cover Designer – Moon Rose Covers
ISBN – 9781533737441
First Edition – June 2016
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Thanks
Many heartfelt thanks to The Street Team. To Caroline, Miranda, Judith, and Tara especially.
To Brenda Fiscus for her sterling work as always.
To Beverly and Miranda, I appreciate your hard work and your excellent eye for detail.
To Miranda Stork of Moon Rose Covers for the excellent cover art and design.
This is dedicated to Wendy Weldon, an inspirational woman, a good friend, and sister who recently was promoted to Glory.
Sign up for Karen Aminadra’s mailing list and get a free copy of her first novel Charlotte ~ Pride & Prejudice Continues, book 1.
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Contents
Thanks
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
More by Karen Aminadra
Chapter One
Emberton Hall, Essex, England
1st April 1816
The clink of crystal glass upon crystal glass resoundingly echoed around the cavernous ballroom, to the repeated cries of the occupants toasting “To the Right Honourable Mr Edward Emberton!”
Edward stood in the centre of the room beaming. He could not have wiped the smile from his face should he have wished to. He raised his glass in salute and drank from his own glass of champagne. He had achieved his dream. He was now the Right Honourable Mr Edward Emberton, a member of the British Parliament.
The year 1816 had begun in a whirlwind for Edward. Shortly after New Year, Sir Guy Fortescue, their local Member of Parliament, died suddenly, leaving a wife, four children, and an empty place in the British government.
Immediately the machine of government kicked in and began to work its magic. Before he realised it, Edward was nominated and being hailed as the new successor. He did not know if people would even vote for him, a relative unknown in political circles. He had a good standing in the community, that was true, but would it be enough to convert into real votes come Election Day? What Edward had not realised was that all of the years of campaigning, lobbying, and making friends had paid off. He learnt he had powerful friends in high places. And tonight he saw it all pay off. He was finally an official Member of Parliament.
His eyes quickly darted around the room, scanning each face until he found the two faces he particularly longed to see, those of his mother and his elder brother. Edwina Emberton stood beside her eldest son, Richard, and his new wife, Grace, beaming with triumph, satisfaction, pride, and sheer pleasure at Edward. He raised his glass in salute to them. Without their support, he doubted he would ever have had the courage to come so far.
Now he was on his way to Westminster. To make the difference in the world he had always dreamt of making.
Edward took a deep breath and turned back to his rapt audience, who by now were calling for a speech. He waved his hands to quiet them as George Squires, his new secretary, took away his drink.
“My dear friends!” He laughed and cleared his throat. “My dear, dear friends! Simple words cannot express the gratitude I feel deep in my heart for what has happened here this very day.” He looked around the sea of smiling faces and could not help but feel his heart warm at their presence. “I will be sworn into office within the next week…” Edward paused, feeling the weight and seriousness of the moment suddenly. “But, my dear friends, I wish to swear to you right here, right now, this very night that I will do everything in my power to uphold the integrity and trust you have placed in my hands. I will endeavour to do what is right and to fight against what I know in my heart to be wrong.”
Edward waited uncomfortably until the applause and cheering died down. He did not expect such a reaction; he merely spoke from his heart. “You all know me well enough by now, I am sure, to know and to be assured that I am a man of moral and Christian upstanding. I always dreamt of being a politician, as bizarre as that may sound,” he smiled, “but it came directly from a heart that wished to make the world a better place to live in, a heart that still wishes to make the world a better place for all. Whether that is possible, I do not know, but I will endeavour to do my best to take steps towards that goal, to play a role in improving this world of ours, but most of all to strive, side by side with my fellow politicians, to keep this Scepter’d Isle great!”
The outburst of cheers and applause took Edward by surprise. He had not expected such a wonderful response. It pleased him more than he cared to admit. Those who knew him well knew he was a man of high morals who wanted the abolition of slavery. As he smiled at his supporters, his eyes scanned the room once more for another face, the face of the one man whose side he had aspired to stand by for years, William Wilberforce. He did not see him. Edward was not surprised by that fact, though a little disappointed. Wilberforce was a busy man, his health was not good, and why should he travel to Essex when Edward will travel to him in Westminster in no time at all?
Edward smiled inwardly at the thought. Yes, he would be in Westminster in no time at all. He would be standing shoulder to shoulder with the greatest leaders of his time. Life was good to him.
A hand on his shoulder brought his mind back to the present. “Congratulations, little brother. That was quite a heartfelt speech.”
Edward turned around and embraced his brother Richard. “Thank you. Sincerely, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I knew I could count on your support, and I am so proud to have it.”
“You shall always have it,” Richard said affectionately, then with a lowered voice continued, “Now, there are a couple of other matters you need to attend to, you realise, Edward.” Gently he led Edward through the crowd to the side of the room where they could speak freely.
“What do you mean?” Edward asked.
“You need to take a house for yourself. You cannot live here at home with Mummy if you are going to be a Member of Parliament in Westminster.” Richard gr
inned cheekily.
Edward chuckled. “Yes, that’s true. That would most certainly invite ridicule.”
“Indeed it would. Nor is it practical. I would recommend taking a house somewhere equally positioned between here and London. That way, you can be here or in London with relative ease and take lodgings if you need to stay there for any length of time.”
“Good idea. I will begin looking first thing tomorrow morning.” Edward nodded seriously.
“And then comes the unenviable task of finding yourself a wife.” Amusement danced in Richard’s eyes.
“A suitable wife.”
“Yes, a suitable wife.”
“One who will help elevate me in political circles.” Edward’s blue eyes shone as he turned back and faced the throng, as though amongst them this suitable wife would appear.
“Whoever you choose, she will indeed have to be suitable. A poor choice now could spell disaster for you in the future.” Richard clapped him on the shoulder again. “Enjoy your evening, brother.” He smiled fondly at Edward and disappeared back into the crowd.
* * * *
Nobody took any notice of the carriage as it made its way through London’s busy and bustling streets. No one minded that the shutters were pulled down. No one saw that the movement of the carriage was not entirely caused by the cobbled streets. No one, except perhaps the driver, could hear the sounds coming from within. But he was not paid to know what happened in the carriage behind him; he was paid to drive.
Nobody was watching as the carriage pulled to a stop outside the grand Mayfair home of Lord Ronald Davenport, Member of Parliament and member of the Cabinet. Nobody gave a second glance as Lord Davenport’s daughter, Frances, descended from the carriage on unsteady legs, her face flushed as she mounted the steps to the front door.
If they had noticed at all, they would have thought nothing amiss. The carriage regularly pulled up to the house to collect Miss Davenport of an evening and returned her again a few hours later.
Frances liked to keep to a routine. She liked things orderly. She particularly liked things to be precisely how she wanted them to be. She was not a young lady to be gainsaid or dictated to by anyone. Perhaps that was the reason that, at twenty-six years old, she remained unmarried. Perhaps. But Frances knew full well the reason was that she was too much of a handful for just one man. And just one man wasn’t enough for her.
Pulling off her gloves finger by finger, Frances dashed up the staircase and to her room. She needed to bathe quickly before her father called for her. Like his daughter, Lord Davenport liked regularity and routine, which suited Frances. It certainly helped keep her activities away from her father’s eyes.
James Kirby was her latest paramour. He was a mere clerk in a counting house and was far below Frances’ station in life, which was precisely how she liked her lovers to be. They never had delusions of grandeur. They knew their place, and they knew, most certainly, there would never be a chance of them marrying the daughter of a lord.
There was always hot water waiting for Frances when she returned home. It was a habit, and she liked habit. The servants liked habit too. It meant their routines were never disrupted.
Frances stripped out of her dress, poured some of the hot water from the pitcher into the bowl, and began to wash. As she ran the washcloth over her body and smiled at the aroma of the soap, she remembered James’ touch. He was not the most practised of lovers, but he was eager to learn, and she had plenty to teach him.
The room was cold, despite the fire, so Frances finished her ablutions quickly and dressed for the evening. That morning her father had mentioned something about inviting guests to play cards that night. Frances always found it such a bore to be around her father’s friends, but she knew where her duty lay. She knew the reason she was yet unmarried. She knew, as James would say, on which side her bread was buttered. There was a chance, and she did not care a jot about it, that she would never marry, that she would remain a spinster for the entirety of her life.
The only thing that caused her any grief about that simple fact was the inevitability of a bastard child somewhere along the way. To have a child whilst unmarried was the single thing that gave Frances Davenport any anxiety at all. She did not care what anyone thought of her, except for her father. His opinion was the one that mattered most in her world.
Chapter Two
The following morning Edward arrived for breakfast looking the worse for wear.
Richard looked up at his brother as he entered the room and chuckled. “You look a little ragged this morning, brother. Too much wine last night?”
Edward shook his head, kissed his mother on the cheek, and sat down opposite his brother. “On the contrary, I assure you.”
“Then what happened?” Richard pressed.
“Jemima Etherington-Smythe,” he replied curtly.
Richard took in a sharp intake of breath. “I see.” He shook his head and returned to his breakfast.
“Who would have thought that becoming a Member of Parliament would also draw out all the unmarried women from the woodwork?”
“Edward, now that your brother is married, all of society’s mamas will suddenly appear at every public gathering to which you are invited. You are now the eligible bachelor in the family,” Edwina informed her son sagely.
Edward looked defeated as he bit into a slice of hot buttered toast. “I had at least thought to do better than Jemima Etherington-Smythe,” he sulked.
Richard drank from his cup of hot chocolate to hide his smirk.
“Who is Jemima Etherington-Smythe?” Grace asked from her position at the end of the table.
Edward looked at his sister-in-law kindly and smiled. Richard had married this lovely young lady just before Christmas, and now her dress revealed the unmistakable sign of the swelling belly of pregnancy. “Mrs Etherington-Smythe, my dear Grace, is a widow. She is merely twenty-nine years old. Unfortunately, having borne her late husband five children in their time together, she now, sadly, looks to be forty-nine.”
He looked back at his brother. “She is hardly suitable.”
“Yet she has proven her worth as a mother.” Again Richard smirked and barely contained his laughter.
Edward found none of this amusing. “Richard, let me make this perfectly plain. I am a bachelor. I do not wish to marry a widow. Yes, it may be true that we are of a similar age, she being only three years older than I am, but I have no desire to be a father to children who are not my own.”
“Edward!” Their mother slammed her knife down upon the table with a loud clatter. “That is uncalled for and unkind. I did not expect to hear such callousness from you.”
Edward looked contrite. “I apologise, Mother. I just hope to do better than Mrs Etherington-Smythe.”
“And indeed you shall,” Edwina replied picking up her knife again and continuing with her breakfast. “I have already compiled a list of suitable young ladies for your perusal.”
“Mother…” Edward shot a look at Grace and saw her glance down at her lap in embarrassment. “Please do not arrange a marriage for me. This is the nineteenth century, and I am perfectly capable of choosing a young lady to take as my bride by myself.”
“Be that as it may, Edward, you do not know the information that I have in my possession. The mothers of these daughters confide titbits of information about their darling daughters that the girls themselves would hardly allow you to know.” She looked at her middle son archly.
“What do you mean, Mama?”
“Scandalous things. Things which you, I am certain, would prefer to be hidden from wagging tongues in society. Things that you would not wish to be known abroad about any future wife of yours.”
“Mama, are you saying some of the young ladies who wish to marry well have dark secrets?” He gazed with incredulity at his brother and sister-in-law.
“Indeed, I am. This is knowledge, Edward, that only a woman would know. If you feel so very strongly that you ought to be the one to m
ake the choice, then go ahead.” Her light tone changed as she looked at him with eyes that pierced his heart like daggers. “But you listen carefully to me, my son. Before you seek an audience with the young lady’s father, before you even declare your intentions to the young lady herself, you will come to me. Do I make myself clear, Edward?”
The edge in her voice told Edward there was only one response to her question. “Yes, Mama.”
“Good.” Edwina pushed the chair back and rose. “I will bid you all a good day. I have things to attend to.” And with that, Edwina gracefully swished out of the room, leaving a stunned silence behind her.
“Well…” was all Richard could say as he shook his head.
“She seemed very angry,” Grace muttered.
Edward mustered all his strength to smile at her and said with bravado, “Don’t you worry yourself about Mother. From time to time she gets herself in a lather like this.”
“Edward, I do believe you ought to do as she asks.” Grace bit her bottom lip nervously.
He saw the action and understood it well. “Grace, you need not be anxious about speaking your mind with me. We are family, are we not?”
“Yes, we are.” She smiled across at him. “I am convinced your mother is correct. If she has information that you do not know of, it is wise to learn what she knows and ask her opinion.”
“Yes, Grace, you are correct. The wife I am looking for will not only be able to elevate me in political circles through her familial contacts, but she will be a wonderful woman too, with a clean and pure reputation. If, Grace, there were such another woman as you,” Edward teased as he watched the blush spread across her face, “then I would marry her immediately. Marrying from the ton is no easy thing, and it comes with innumerable considerations. Society is not always the nicest of places.”
The Suitable Bride (The Emberton Brothers Series Book 2) Page 1