The Earl of Arundel

by Johnson, Angela

  “I’ll help you,” Anne said with the same knowing smile on her face.

  Richard continued his hard glare. Phillip was embarrassed. He should have asked for her hand and left her with a chaste kiss on her cheek.

  “I agree.” Phillip turned back to watch as they picked the sketches off the ground. “We shouldn’t be alone to make certain we don’t cross a line.”

  Richard raised his eyebrows. “I believe you’ve already crossed it.”

  “Richard, you don’t get an opinion,” Emma said, standing with her sketches back in hand.

  “Emma, go home. This is between the earl and me,” Richard said as he continued to stare at Phillip.

  Emma went to argue with her brother, but Phillip turned to her. “He is right. I crossed a line.”

  “It would be wrong if I didn’t want—”

  Anne grabbed Emma’s arm and dragged her away.

  Phillips actions had been unwise, and he regretted them. But he didn’t regret the love he had for Emma. He waited until she was out of hearing range before speaking again.

  “You look like you’re ready to strangle me,” he said to Richard, who continued to look at him with dislike.

  “We brought you into our home and took care of you while you were ill, and this is how you repay us?”

  Phillip closed his eyes. Another headache was starting. He was certain it was due to the stress of the moment. He didn’t speak, because he knew he couldn’t say anything to make Richard understand he didn’t intend to hurt Emma.

  “Do you realize if anyone other than Anne and I had come upon the two of you during such a display, my sister’s reputation would be ruined?” His fists were clenched in anger.

  “Yes, I realize this now,” Phillip said, forcing his voice to sound repentant.

  “Don’t tell me the amnesia has blocked your sense of propriety.”

  “No, it hasn’t. I realize what I did was wrong,” he said, hoping the apology would end the conversation.

  “You now realize this?” he mocked.

  Phillip steadied himself for the blow he knew was coming. Richard’s hands had been clenched since the kiss ended, and his anger continued to build. If he was hit in the face, he needed to make certain he was grounded enough so he didn’t fall over and break his leg again.

  “Richard?” Henry called, running down the path.

  “What?” Richard growled at his brother.

  Henry looked between them and said, “It’s going to rain. We need to get back to the house.”

  “Do you know what’s happened here?” Richard barked at his brother.

  “Yes, both Anne and Emma have apprised me of the situation,” Henry said with a smile. He looked over at Phillip and laughed. “Richard is a bit protective of our sisters.”

  Phillip didn’t smile as he responded, “As he should be.” He turned back to Richard. “I do apologize.”

  Richard didn’t speak as he turned and made his way back down the path. Henry laughed again and moved his head to indicate they should follow.

  They walked in silence, which was preferable for Phillip due to the headache. His vision was starting to blur, and his neck and upper back sent shooting pains into his head. Henry walked slowly so Phillip could keep up with him and spoke once the house was in sight.

  “Emma has fancied you since she realized you know the sonnets by number. I’m certain she’s happy you share her feelings,” he said with a sideways glance.

  “I meant her no disrespect,” he said in remorse. “I also didn’t mean any disrespect to your family.”

  “I know,” he responded, “but reputations are fragile, and Richard is correct that her reputation would be destroyed while you wouldn’t be affected.”

  Phillip stopped hobbling even though thunder rolled through the sky. He looked up as the first drops of rain started. Henry turned back. “I plan to ask for her hand. I’m not trifling with her heart. And Lord Anthony has given his blessing on the union.” He closed his eyes against the sharp pains in his head. “I’m in love with her.”

  Henry raised his eyebrows in surprise. Phillip expected a response, but Henry didn’t speak. Phillip took a deep breath and let it go. He didn’t know what more to say.

  “We should get out of this rain. You look pale,” Henry said, moving closer to him.

  “I think it’s just this blasted situation,” Phillip responded in annoyance. “The thought of hurting Emma and disrespecting your family is bothering me.”

  Henry pointed toward the house and they walked. Phillip’s crutches sunk in the mud as he limped back to the house. Phillip went to his room to lie down. He didn’t tell anyone about the headache and shooting pains. He hoped a nap would relieve him of the symptoms before supper. He needed to get out of his wet clothes, so he sat on the chair next to the window to remove his clothing. I’ll close my eyes for a minute and then get the wet clothes off, he thought as he laid his head against the plush chair. I should’ve stopped kissing her, he berated himself as he continued to sit with his eyes closed.

  He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until the door opened and Richard said something about the evening meal. He stayed where he was without moving. His body shivered and his head pounded.

  “What the devil?” Richard said as he touched Phillip’s forehead. “You’re burning up with fever.”

  He didn’t want to be a bother. He wanted to go home to his family where they would care for him. But at the moment it wasn’t possible. He heard Lady Amelia’s and Lord Anthony’s voices as though from a distance.

  “Send for Doctor Price,” Lady Amelia said as soft hands pressed against his forehead and face.

  Thirteen

  Embarrassment plagued her mind as Emma paced her bedchamber. Richard and Anne had walked in on what she would consider a very private moment, but Phillip had seen the sketches of his face. She wanted to argue with Richard and stay to defend herself and the kiss he interrupted, but Anne had pulled her toward the house.

  She went over the day, reviewing her actions. She wondered if it had been smart to kiss a man with amnesia. She was in love with him. She couldn’t explain the way he made her feel. She wanted to read poetry, sing songs of love, and dance in the rain whenever he was around. When he kissed her, she never wanted to be parted from him.

  She was surprised when she went down for supper to find Phillip was suffering from another headache. He’d been in his room since returning. Due to her embarrassment over the situation, she’d stayed in her room sketching.

  She walked into his room to see he was incoherent and jittery.

  “Emma, bring blankets,” her mother told her as she entered the room.

  She ran to retrieve them, and her mind went back to the night he arrived at their home. She was sent for extra blankets then as well. She took the blankets back into the room and placed them on the bed. Richard removed Phillip’s boots, as he’d kept them on after coming in from the outdoors.

  “Emma, you shouldn’t be in here,” Richard said as he placed one boot on the floor.

  “Leave me alone, Richard,” she shot back at him. She wanted an apology from him for the way he behaved earlier.

  “Will you take this argument into another room?” their father said as he went to pour laudanum into Phillip’s mouth.

  “Father, don’t,” Emma said walking forward. “He doesn’t like the laudanum.”

  “Swallow,” her father said as he leaned over Phillip and forced the liquid in his mouth. “It’ll be better if he sleeps.”

  Emma watched as her father laid Phillip’s head back on the pillows and her mother covered him with blankets.

  “He received a letter from His Grace, Ashby, while he was out. I’ll take a look at it as soon as the doctor arrives,” her father responded, helping to spread the blankets over Phillip’s body.

  As the
y stood to leave him with a maid, Doctor Price and Nurse Brown entered the room. The family waited in the hall as the doctor examined Phillip. Emma closed her eyes as she sat on the chair. She knew Richard was staring at her, and she didn’t want to see his disapproving gaze.

  “Lord Anthony, I’m afraid the head injury is too severe. It is behaving as an infectious disease,” Doctor Price said with a glance around the group.

  “What should we do to relieve him of the pain?” her father asked.

  “I would like to bleed him.”

  “Is he strong enough for a bleeding?” her mother asked, concern etched on her face.

  “Doctor,” Nurse Brown called from the room, “he’s conscious.”

  Doctor Price turned from the hall and entered the room. Emma entered behind her parents and watched as the doctor sat on the bed next to Phillip.

  “My lord, you have a high fever, which is causing an infection in your brain. I would like your permission to perform a bleeding.”

  Phillip didn’t speak for a bit, and Emma wondered if he had gone back to sleep until he croaked, “If it will help.”

  “I believe it will,” Doctor Price said, patting him on the shoulder.

  The doctor turned to grab his bag when Phillip grabbed his arm. “I don’t want any more laudanum.” He closed his eyes for a moment and reopened them. “Please let me know when I can go home.” The words came out more as a slur.

  Hearing Phillip say he wanted to leave caused her to panic more than seeing him in a feverish state. If he left, she would never see him again. She looked up at the ceiling, hoping the tears wouldn’t fall in front of everyone.

  Doctor Price took Phillip’s hand off of his arm and laid it back on the bed. “I will use laudanum only if it is necessary; you have my word.”

  The doctor moved off the bed and placed a basin under his elbow. The smell of blood permeated the air. She watched the doctor pierce the skin, and blood seeped out of his body into the bowl. Nurse Brown wiped the sweat from his face and neck. She saw him closing his eyes and thought he was going to sleep.

  “Emma, I love you,” he said as he dozed off.

  She didn’t dare look at her brothers or her sister as he said the words. He’d implied his feelings were deep and he enjoyed being with her as he’d kissed her. But this was the first time he had said those words. She could tell there was heat in her cheeks as her brothers broke out in smiles.

  “You two are immature,” she responded, continuing to look at the wall in front of her.

  “He’s drugged,” Anne said, trying to hold in a laugh.

  “He won’t remember saying it,” Richard said with a smile.

  Emma turned to him. “So now it’s funny?” she asked, glaring at him.

  “Oh no, what I saw this afternoon was not and is still not amusing,” he said in all seriousness, “but what he just said in there was.”

  She didn’t look at her parents as they exited his room. Her mother pulled her into a hug. And her father looked pleased.

  Embarrassed by the redness of her cheeks she added, “And I am certain Richard gave a full account of this morning to all of you. Yes, he kissed me.” She pursed her lips together to think of what to say next. “I quite enjoyed it.” She walked away before anyone could respond.

  Emma sat next to Phillip with her sketchbook. He was unconscious due to the fever and the bleeding. “I’m so embarrassed. Phillip saw at least one of the sketches if not more,” she said to Anne as tears ran down her face. “How do I get myself into these messes?”

  “You spend too much time in books.” Anne sighed. “Relationships in real life don’t happen like Romeo and Juliet. They’re messier like Arthur and Guinevere.”

  She considered telling her sister of the passionate kisses he’d given her but decided against it. The one Anne witnessed was enough to shame her. She didn’t want her sister to think she would allow any man the liberty of kissing her.

  “Emma, you need to be careful,” Anne added as she sat on the bed.

  “I know I should’ve stopped the kiss,” she said, heat rising in her cheeks again, “but the softness of his lips and the way he kissed me . . .” She allowed her voice to take on a dreamy element as she touched her lips, remembering his kiss. “I’ve never experienced anything so wonderful,” she said, coming back to the moment.

  Anne rolled her eyes. “If you’ll allow a man to kiss you and touch you in public, people are going to wonder what you will allow in private.”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t ever kissed a man,” Emma said, walking to the window and peering out at the night sky.

  “Emma, what would have happened if we didn’t interrupt you?” Anne asked with her eyebrows raised and a serious look on her face.

  “We would’ve ended the kiss and he would’ve seen the sketches.”

  “Are you in earnest? Or are you telling yourself he would’ve respected you? Because from what I saw he was making his way down—”

  Emma cut her off with a quick turn from the window. “He wouldn’t have taken advantage of me.” She turned. “I want to be alone.”

  Anne walked to the door. “Then you can’t stay in here.”

  “Please just leave,” Emma begged, walking to the overstuffed chair. She laid her head against it and curled her legs into her chest. She let the tears fall. Elation changed to shame as she thought of her actions.

  Anne didn’t leave. Instead she pulled her chair closer. She grabbed a brush from the side table and ran it through Emma’s hair. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

  Emma didn’t respond. She let her sister continue to brush her hair as she thought about her behavior. She’d let the flirting go on too long and it went too far. She had never allowed any other man to kiss her. She wondered why she was allowing Phillip to do so, and without even a promise of the relationship continuing after he left Springhill Abby.

  “Do you think he will ask me to marry him?

  “I hope he does.” Anne continued to brush her hair, and Emma let her.

  Fourteen

  Springhill Abby was smaller than Wentworth Hall by at least half, if not more. Edward hoped to find Phillip healing and ready to travel home, but when he and his father entered the sick room his heart sank.

  The door was open, and he could hear a woman reading a book. When he entered the room, he saw a doctor, nurse, and three women. One woman was sitting on a chair reading; the others were sitting on the bed, one on each side wiping sweat from Phillip’s neck and head with wet cloths.

  “Your Grace,” Lord Anthony said as they entered the room, “may I introduce my wife, Lady Amelia, daughters Emma and Anne, Doctor Price, and Nurse Brown?” Turning to the room at large he said, “The Duke of Ashby and Lord Edward.”

  He waited for the niceties to be followed, and then Edward could no longer hold back. He walked to his brother’s bed as the daughter moved away. He took hold of the wet cloth and wiped the sweat from his brother’s neck and chest.

  “How long have you been bleeding him?” his father asked. The smell of blood and infection was enough to make Edward sick, but he held the vomit back.

  “We’ve done an irregular schedule of bleeding for the past week.” Doctor Price walked over and placed a bandage on Phillip’s arm to stop the current bleeding. He removed the bowl of blood and handed it to Nurse Brown. “I hope we don’t have to do another round. He’s not strong enough.”

  Edward watched as his father took Lady Amelia’s place on the opposite side of the bed. His father pulled Phillip into his arms and held him. Edward had never seen this side of Ashby. He always appeared to be a strong, impenetrable man who didn’t let situations such as this affect him. But their family had been through too much over the past months to hold onto pride any longer.

  He knew everyone left the room without having to look around. He wondered if he should
also leave and let his father have time with Phillip alone. Edward still hadn’t forgiven his father for hitting him while the constable questioned him. He knew he’d have to at some point, but he didn’t care to put forth the effort. As he moved to leave, his father reached out and took his hand. Edward flinched. His father ignored the movement and instead said, “Stay.”

  By the following morning, Phillip’s condition was unchanged, and his father continued the vigil. Standing outside the door, Edward listened as his father softly spoke. This side of Ashby was new, and it strangely bothered him to know his father could be soft, kind, and gentle.

  “I have not been the father you wanted,” Ashby said to the unconscious form.

  Thinking it might be better for him to leave and let his father finish this one-sided conversation, Edward turned to go, but stopped when he heard his father’s confession.

  “My father told me to make a man strong, you had to teach correct principles. I fear I have done the same to you. I did not know why my father hit me until he lay dying. I cannot apologize for what I have put you through, as I believe it is the only reason you have the strength to heal now.”

  Shaking his head in frustration, Edward left his father to his mixed-up excuses. Beating his oldest son as a way to encourage strength was backward. It did not make sense, and it would not change the current situation.

  Edward wandered out to the patio and saw a pathway through the garden. Deciding it would give Ashby ample time to say what he needed, Edward perused the flowers along the pathway. He noticed most of the flowers were roses of all different colors.

  “Lord Edward?”

  Edward turned to see both Miss Parker and Miss Emma sitting on a bench. He gave a small bow in their direction. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  “Please do, Lord Edward,” Miss Parker said, pointing to the empty bench next to them. “Has there been a change in Arundel’s condition?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Edward replied as he sat. “My father wanted time alone with him this morning.”