by Fiona Miers
“I thank you, Mr. Cole,” Emma answered as she reached for her small reticule. She took out five coins and placed them on the counter.
“Please, my lady. Your money is no good here,” Mr. Cole protested.
“I do insist, Mr. Cole. You have done so many selfless deeds for our family, it is the least I can do. I will not leave here until you take the money. You work hard and should be rewarded for that,” Emma insisted, sliding the coins towards Mr. Cole.
“I am most grateful,” Mr. Cole said.
Emma reached for the glass bottle and placed it carefully into her satchel, and as she turned, she noticed Mr. Wallace standing behind her.
Emma had come to know Mr. Carson Wallace through an introduction made by Lord William.
Mr. Wallace owned the estate neighboring Woodlock Manor, and as William had explained, Mr. Wallace was secretly in love with Lady Elizabeth, although he would deny it with his life.
“Mr. Wallace,” Emma greeted with a smile.
“Good afternoon, my lady. What a surprise to see you once more,” Mr. Wallace reciprocated her gesture. “It has been quite a while since we last spoke. I have not seen you at any of the recent balls I attended.”
“Indeed. I purposely remained in my home to avoid any type of harassment from the residents here who are under the impression they know who I am,” Emma shrugged. “But I do apologize for making it seem as though I wish to avoid people whom I know would not believe those tales.”
“I am truly sorry what those gossip mongers have done to you, Lady Emma. It cannot be an easy thing. Perhaps you should ask His Grace, the Duke of Somerset, to resolve this for you, as he has experience in such things.”
Emma’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, Mr. Wallace?”
“Have you not heard the tale?”
When Emma shook her head, Mr. Wallace stepped closer. “Stories were being spread of Lady Elizabeth and a man named Lord Dorset, which threated to ruin her reputation. Of course, those tales were untrue, but that did not stop a vindictive Lord Dorset from his malicious gossiping. The duke had decided to take matters into his own hands and he drew Lord Dorset’s cork in right there,” Mr. Wallace answered and pointed to the small park on the other side of the square. “His Grace even had Lord Dorset publicly admit that he had fabricated the tales.”
“That is very noble and pragmatic of him,” Emma muttered. “Luckily I do not have to face these unseemly people for much longer.”
“How so, my lady?”
“My gracious father has agreed to allow me to visit Edinburgh for as long as I wish. I will stay with a cousin of my mother’s. I am truly excited, as it has been a place I desperately wished to visit,” Emma explained.
“Edinburgh is a magnificent city.”
“You have been there?” Emma asked him, truly interested.
“Indeed, many times. It has become my favorite location to travel. The duke and I visited when we were young boys the first time, and we fell in love with the lochs and the highlands.”
“And this is the same man who publicly drew another man’s cork in front of hundreds of spectators?” Emma cocked her head.
“The duke is a good man,” Mr. Wallace said and glanced back at Emma, “as is Lord William.”
“Please, Mr. Wallace, I mean no disrespect, but I do not wish to speak of Lord William, not with anyone,” Emma said and held her hands up. “Did he send you here to attempt to convince me to accept his proposal?”
“What proposal?”
Oh, no.
“Do forget that I mentioned anything,” Emma said hurriedly and stepped to the side. “Please do excuse me. I must be going.”
“My sincerest apologies,” Mr. Wallace called out as she left the apothecary, but she did not turn back to respond.
The bell on the door chimed as she stepped outside, and as she was about to step onto the street, someone approached her from the side, startling her. She gasped as she glanced up. It was the same young man she had seen outside the establishment before she entered. Luckily, he was alone.
For now.
Emma was certainly not in the mood to speak to the man and lowered her gaze. “Pardon me.”
“Lady Emma, do you have a moment or two to spare?” the young man asked.
“I do apologize,” Emma forced a smile and brushed passed the man. “I must be going.”
“Wait!” the man called out, and was beside her once more, even faster than she had anticipated.
“What is it you want?” Emma inquired with a tired sigh. “I am in a hurry.”
“What I wish will not take long,” he answered, a smirk forming on his arrogant face.
“I am most certainly not in a mood for cryptic words and phrases,” Emma sighed once more, “especially not from a man with whom I am not acquainted.”
“I see. I would like to be acquainted, as you and Lord William were. Is that the path to your underskirt?” the man asked.
Emma’s jaw dropped in shock at his vulgar words and she shook her head in disgust. “You should not believe the things you hear.”
“But it is true. You and Lord William, at the Duchess of Waltham’s manor? Perhaps you can show me what Lord William speaks of so willingly,” the man said and grabbed Emma’s arm.
Fear skittled along her spine, so she strengthened her resolve. She would not be bullied in such a way.
“You will unhand me, or I will be forced to scream,” Emma hissed. “Would you enjoy being made a spectacle of, in front of the entire town?”
“My lady is the one who is the spectacle,” he hissed in return. “I will merely be adding you to my list of conquests—or shall I say, you will be adding me to your long list?”
Anger rose inside Emma as she raised her hand and lashed out as hard as she could, striking the young man against his cheek.
His grip tightened against her arm but she struck him once more, finally causing him to back away. Emma’s handprint glowed on his skin.
“How dare you strike me?” he exclaimed. “Who do you think you are, woman?”
Emma’s chest rose and fell in anger as she stepped closer to him, drawing a deep breath. “I may be a woman, but I know many powerful people who can crush you in the blink of an eye. Harass me again, and I will personally see to it that you are humiliated to a degree where there is no recovery. You shall run with your tail between your legs like the cowardly dog you are.”
The young man narrowed his eyes and stepped away from her, his cheek still crimson from her slap. He glanced around and pointed briefly at Emma.
She tried not to show a single sign of fear, despite her heart beating ferociously in her chest. As the young man turned and finally walked away, Emma exhaled slowly, tears immediately filling her eyes.
“My lady,” came a familiar voice from behind her, and as she turned around, her heart plummeted into her boots.
16
William had witnessed the horror of Emma being harassed and attacked by Lord Niall, with whom he had unfortunately spoken on more than one occasion.
Lord Niall was notorious for being an insensitive brute who objectified women and discarded them as soon as he was done. William was quite impressed at the force with which Emma had slapped her attacker – twice – that had made the man stumble backward. But he still wished to ensure she was unharmed.
He was uncertain whether she would accept his assistance or not, but it did not matter. It made him want to call the other man out, watching the woman he loved be attacked in such a vulgar manner. But Emma had surprised him with her aggressive display of anger towards the miscreant.
William had assumed Emma could take care of herself. She was more than capable of speaking her mind and handling any given situation that was thrown at her, but it did not mean that she should have to.
Or it did not mean he wished her to. She deserved a man who stood up for her in such situations, a man who would prevent her from being in those situations in the first place.
William
rushed across the street, in the direction he saw Emma storm off, and called out her name. Emma, however, did not turn towards him, and he did not blame her in the least.
“Emma!” William called out one more time in desperation.
At the mention of her name, Emma spun around, but as soon as she saw William approach, she sighed, her shoulders slumping considerably.
“What do you want?” Emma asked.
“I simply wish to see if you were harmed,” William said.
“I am perfectly fine,” Emma scoffed.
“If you are as perfectly fine as you claim to be, why are there tear stains on your cheeks?” William asked.
“That is none of your business, my lord,” Emma muttered.
“In actual fact, it is, my lady.”
“And how do you figure that?” Emma inquired with a furrowed brow.
“Every moment since the first time we—”
“Please, stop,” she interrupted and raised her hands at him, silently begging him to stop speaking.
“Allow me to speak, Emma, even if it is only this once,” William persisted, pressing the palms of his hands together.
Emma crossed her arms over her chest and glanced defiantly at him. But she didn’t say anything more, so her silence gave him the freedom to speak.
“Everything that has happened has been because of me, and I am sorry that it has affected you so greatly, I wish that there was something I could do to make things right,” William explained sincerely, his heart aching in his chest.
“Unfortunately, there is nothing you can do, my lord. My reputation is ruined, I have lost all my friends. People whisper whenever I am present, and their judgmental stares have made me reluctant to leave the confines of my parents’ home. I had hoped things would settle down and people would forget the tales that have circulated about me, but they have not. I find myself being harassed and attacked by men who think I am a light-skirted woman, which I am certainly not,” Emma answered.
“Of course, you are not!” William agreed.
“I have grown tired of being a walking target for men who think they can take advantage of me. I have grown tired of people whispering and not wishing to have anything to do with me, while those same people have done precisely the same thing. I simply do not have the strength to deal with such hypocrisy any longer,” Emma muttered wearily.
Pain struck him across the chest, seeing her so sad. So… defeated.
“It pains me to see you this way, Emma.”
Emma scoffed and shook her head. “You have an odd way of showing it. A proposal out of pity, a week’s absence, and then suddenly my lord wishes to swoop in and come to my aid. Again, completely uncalled for.”
“I only wish to ensure you are all right, and no harm had come to you,” William answered, beginning to become rather impatient.
“I am perfectly fine,” Emma muttered and lowered her gaze. She winced slightly as she closed her hand into a fist, and William noticed the reddened skin on her palm.
“Can I take you home?” William offered and Emma glared at him. “It is most certainly the least I can do.”
“The least you can do is leave me be. Have I not made myself perfectly clear that I do not wish for you to come anywhere near me?” Emma hissed.
“I only wish to help.”
“It is not your duty to help me or rescue me. You are not my savior. There is absolutely no reason for you to go above and beyond to assist me,” Emma pointed out.
“You and I both know very well there is a reason, my lady. Quite a few, in fact,” William answered, and reached for her arm.
“No, there is most certainly not. Perhaps you have conjured those reasons up. I am not aware of any of them,” Emma glared down at William’s hand grasping her arm.
“Are you always this stubborn? I offer my assistance not out of guilt, but out of—”
“I do not require your assistance,” Emma huffed, and managed to break free from his grasp. “I am fully capable of caring for myself.”
“And what a fine job you did,” William muttered.
“Why do you insist on intruding in my life in such a manner? Was it not humiliating enough when I refused to marry you, or are you simply a martyr for rejection?” Emma inquired angrily, her face flushing red.
“You can publicly humiliate me, my lady, and I would still offer my assistance to you,” William answered.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Emma scoffed. “It is most certainly a good thing I will not be around to see it first-hand.”
“What does that mean?” William inquired, suddenly filled with even more concern.
Emma’s gaze grew shuttered. “I should not have said a word.”
“Tell me,” William insisted.
“It is not your place to demand things of me. I am in control of my life and my decisions, and leaving Somerset is the best thing I can do for myself,” Emma said and turned away.
“You are leaving? For good?” William managed to sputter, though the panic rose up inside him and he stepped towards Emma.
“Perhaps. I am not certain when I will return,” Emma answered.
“When will you leave?”
“Soon.”
Her evasive answers frustrated William immensely, but still he asked, “Where are you going?”
“I am certainly not telling you that. I do not wish to be followed, or have someone sent out to spy on me. I simply wish to be alone,” Emma said.
“But you’re meant to be here,” William insisted, a lump forming in his throat. “With me.”
Emma’s eyes began filling up with tears, and she lowered her gaze. “I must go, William. Take care.”
With her eyes cast downward, she turned away and made her way down the pathway, where her father’s coach and the coachman waited for her.
He watched as the coachman assisted her in climbing into the vehicle and as it moved away, his heart sank into his chest. A fiery and rather peculiar ache erupted in his heart as the coach disappeared from sight.
He couldn’t breathe.
“My lord,” he heard a voice behind him. He slowly turned around, unable to respond accordingly as Carson Wallace approached him. “You are as pale as a sheet. Is everything all right?”
“She is leaving,” William whispered, still in shock.
“To whom are you referring, Will?” Carson asked.
“Emma. She is leaving Somerset, perhaps for good, and there is not a single thing I can do or say that will make her stay,” William whispered and raked his fingers through his hair.
“I heard.”
“From whom?”
“From the lady herself,” Mr. Wallace answered. “Earlier, she was in the apothecary purchasing oil of amber. We spoke briefly and she informed me that her father was permitting her to visit Edinburgh.”
“Edinburgh? That is a very long journey.” William sighed.
“Indeed,” Carson agreed with a sigh. “William, may I give you a bit of advice—as a friend?”
“It would be most welcome, since I have not an inkling what to do to make her stay,” he answered.
“Perhaps it is not your place to ask her to stay. It seems as though it is something Lady Emma has been wishing to do for a long while, and now, amid all this chaos, is the perfect time to go,” Carson answered.
“But it means that she would leave,” he said, still shocked by the day’s events.
“Perhaps you should not ask her to stay, but go with her,” Carson pointed out.
His words made William ponder for a few moments, but the more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed to him.
Emma would most certainly never allow him to accompany her, despite his heart desperately wishing otherwise. She would surely be safe if he was in Edinburgh with her, and he knew of many places to visit.
Places he had visited alone, and knew would be perfect to share with Emma. However, William was well aware Emma had once again had made it perfectly clear she did not wis
h him to come anywhere near her.
“I cannot do such a thing,” William finally answered and turned to his friend. “I have overstepped my bounds with Emma too often. She deserves to spend time away from Somerset, as well as from me. I have been the cause of all the terrible things that have come over her, and I merely wish for her to be happy.”
“Even if that means that she carries on without you?” Carson asked and stared at William as though he were daft.
He glanced in the direction Emma’s coach had disappeared and sighed, his heart heavy. “Especially then.”
“You are a selfless martyr,” Carson pointed out, inclining his head in a semi-nod.
William snorted at the irony, then nodded. “As are you.”
17
Emma’s bedchamber was littered with items of clothing. From an outsider’s perspective it must look like a garment explosion had occurred inside the room.
Kitty glanced around as Emma continued to choose the items she wished to pack.
“I cannot believe you are leaving tomorrow, Emma,” Kitty sighed.
She turned towards her friend and nodded. “Nor can I. And despite leaving and not being able to spend time with you, I am truly excited about this trip.”
“You deserve some peace, Emma. The past few weeks have not been easy for you. I can understand why you wish to distance yourself from Somerset,” Kitty said, her expression filled with concern.
“What is the matter, Kitty?” Emma asked, placing one of her favorite coats inside the large trunk beside her.
“I am worried that you are perhaps being a tad rash. Running away from your problems is not going to solve them, Emma,” Kitty answered. “In fact, it will only make matters worse.”
“Worse than they already are? I doubt that is possible,” Emma scoffed. “And I am most certainly not running away. I merely require a break from these people, the whispers, the gossip. Never in my life had I imagined what it would be like to be spoken of in such a manner. The prejudice, the judgment. I will always remain a light-skirted woman. It is utterly unjust. People who do not even know me now think horrible things about me.”