The Earl of Arundel

by Johnson, Angela

  “Are you listening to me?” she yelled.

  Phillip rubbed the spot on his head. He looked over and glared at her. Without saying a word he stood and left the room. Again, he left without eating anything.

  “Olivia, sit down or find your way to your room,” Norland yelled as he knocked his glass over. The liquid spread across the table and began dripping on the floor before the footmen were able to clean the spill.

  Edward thought the show was over until Olivia picked Marianne’s plate off the table and threw it at her father.

  “I don’t want to be gambled away in a contract!” she yelled. She picked Charlotte’s plate off the table and threw it at Norland. The footmen stopped trying to clean the room because the mess continued to build with each plate of food thrown.

  “Olivia, go to your room!” Norland yelled again, thinking a demand would stop his daughter’s tantrum.

  Olivia threw her chair at one of the footmen. “Get out of my way!” she yelled at the servants standing around the room. She grabbed her mother’s plate and threw it across the room, hitting Mr. Hodgens in the arm before she stormed out.

  Edward looked to Ashby to see his reaction. It appeared as though his father had taken Phillip’s approach to Olivia’s outbursts. He sat eating his food, pretending he didn’t have a guest covered with food and a mess in the dining room.

  Twenty-four

  One part of the London season Emma could do without was the exhaustion that came from constant visits, garden parties, and dances. At first the diversion of company was enjoyable, but after days of the same thing, it grew old. Emma listened to her sister and some of the other débutantes chatting about men they wanted to ensnare and was caught off guard by the mention of Phillip.

  “The Earl of Arundel has been subdued this season,” Miss Willis stated. Taking a sip of her lemonade, she gave a knowing look to one of the other girls. “We heard he has been ill.”

  “I heard he was out at Springhill Abby this summer,” Miss Berry said, looking for gossip.

  Neither Anne nor Emma offered information, but the women seemed to already know more than expected.

  “Did you hear about the accident on London Bridge the other day?” Miss Willis asked, leaning forward as though this was the hottest topic in society. “Arundel was almost killed—”

  “What?” Emma blurted out, not caring about the volume of her voice. She saw people turn to look at her due to her outburst, and her cheeks went pink from embarrassment.

  Miss Willis smiled before she continued. “He was pushed in front of a hansom cab. Lord Edward pulled him out of the street right before the horse ran him down.”

  Emma turned from the group, frantic for information on Phillip’s condition. She’d seen Lady Charlotte and Lady Marianne earlier, and she wanted to find them.

  A search through the patio, greenhouse, and garden proved a waste. A sense of agitation built through each space as she considered the next room to check. When she entered the blue room, Marianne stood with a group of women.

  Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she willed her feet to move at a regular pace so as not to bring attention to her frantic pounding heart. “Marianne” she said, nodding her head in a slight bow.

  “Emma, it’s nice to see you again.” Marianne put her arm out and took hold of Emma’s. “Will you walk in the garden with me?”

  As they walked, Emma tried to think of a way to ask about Phillip, but every time she tried to form the words, she stopped herself.

  “I know everyone is talking about the accident on London Bridge. Phillip is shaken but well in body. Edward pulled him out of the way before the horse ran him down.”

  Emma squeezed her eyes shut as they walked. “Did he see his assailant?”

  “No. There were many witnesses, and Edward saw the back of the man. The constable is conducting an investigation.”

  “Marianne, will you be honest with me?” Emma asked, hoping she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. She waited for the nod of agreement before continuing. “Is Lord Arundel well?”

  Marianne smiled. “I think my brother wouldn’t be happy to know you just used a title to refer to him. He doesn’t speak much anymore,” Marianne observed. “We are all worried about him. Edward watches him almost as though he’s wondering where his twin brother has gone.” Marianne took her hands and held them as a way to comfort her. “I wish it could turn out differently, because I would prefer to have you as a sister.”

  Emma nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She pointed to the door and walked away from Marianne.

  Knowing another party, this time at Almack’s Assembly Hall, was set for the evening, Emma told her mother she was leaving the garden party to rest. As she walked home, Emma decided she was going to dance and flirt with as many men as she could, and she would get over Phillip Watson.

  She again dressed with care, this time with the effort to ensnare another man. She wouldn’t reach for another earl; she could be happy with an untitled husband. But as she walked into the ballroom, she betrayed herself as she found she was searching for Phillip.

  “Who are you looking for?” Anne asked, taking Emma’s hand.

  “I know it’s ridiculous, but I want to see him and see he is well.”

  “I’ll ask Edward about the accident on the bridge, but you should focus on dancing with other men.”

  Emma nodded; she’d keep her resolve. It didn’t take long before she was asked to dance. Mr. Carrige asked her for the first dance of the evening. As she walked to the floor, she noted the bounce in his step.

  “Mr. Carrige,” she said as he took her hand and they bowed to each other at the start of the dance. “How have you enjoyed being in London?”

  “It has been an enjoyable season,” he said as they passed by each other, dancing alongside other couples. “I see Lord Edward is paying call to your sister. Are they courting?”

  Emma didn’t know if she should answer his question, so she decided to answer in a different way. “Lord Edward is a good friend of our family.”

  “As is Lord Arundel?” Mr. Carrige asked, stepping again to her side.

  “Yes, he is.” Emma found she was looking around the room, still searching for Phillip.

  “Are the rumors true?”

  “I don’t listen to idol gossip, Mr. Carrige. So, I can’t confirm rumors.” She took her hand out of his and wished the dance would end.

  “I heard he spent the entire summer at Springhill Abby,” Mr. Carrige said, taking her hand again to help her spin around.

  “He was at Springhill Abby.” Emma didn’t think the confirmation wouldn’t cause any problems. She was thankful the dance ended so she could escape his presence.

  As he left her with her family she turned to her brothers. “The reason I am asked to dance is to confirm rumors regarding the Earl of Arundel.”

  Henry reached for her hand. “Dance with me and I won’t ask anything about Arundel.”

  Henry escorted her to the floor. As he led her in a waltz around the room, she saw Phillip dancing. Her heart seemed to stop until she realized he was dancing with his sister.

  “So much for taking my mind off of him.” She used her eyes to point in Phillip’s direction.

  “Lord Edward said his parents are forcing him out of his self-imposed reclusion. If you continue to attend dances, you will end up seeing him.”

  “Is it terrible of me that sometimes I wish Father had never found him?”

  “He would be dead. Would you prefer the alternative?” Henry was surprised by his sister’s comment.

  “I wouldn’t have known him if Father hadn’t found him. So, it wouldn’t affect me.” As she said the words, a pang of regret and longing hit her heart.

  When the song ended, they turned to walk back to their family. She looked back and saw Phillip leading his sister from the floor. “Do
you think he’ll ask me to dance?”

  The sound of a gunshot echoed through the room.

  Emma screamed as she found her legs were going out from under her. Henry pulled her to the floor. The room was filled with pandemonium. Emma’s eyes were still trained on Phillip as she’d been watching him exit the dance floor. A scream escaped her mouth when she saw his body jerk to the side and blood fly in the air.

  Henry pulled her head into his shoulder and held her in a protective embrace as the commotion continued. “Is he dead?” she cried as he pulled her to the side of the room.

  “Who?” Henry asked, letting her head come up, as there were no other gunshots in the room.

  She pointed in the direction where she saw Phillip fall. She couldn’t get the words out; she was stunned into silence and trying to catch her breath. People were now up and running for the exit.

  “Emma, we are going,” Henry said, trying to pull her with him.

  “No.” She pulled her arm from his, trying to make her way toward the crowd of people surrounding Phillip. She had to make certain he was alive. She wanted to believe her eyes were wrong and he wasn’t the one on the ground.

  Henry grabbed her around the waist. “Father and Mother will expect us to meet them at the carriage.”

  “I have to see if he is . . .” She couldn’t let the words leave her mouth.

  She fought to get out of Henry’s arms as he pulled her toward the exit. They were nearly there when they were hit by another couple running from the room. Her head and back hit the wall. She opened her eyes and fought to catch her breath, feeling dizzy as she fell to the floor.

  “Emma, can you stand?” Henry asked, trying to get her to focus. “Emma, answer me,” he called to her. Turning from her he called, “Richard, I need help.”

  “I can stand,” she said, letting him pull her off the ground. She looked back to the side of the room where she knew Phillip was lying. The crowd was still gathered around him, and chaos continued as Henry yanked on her arm again and dragged her from the room. He pushed her into the carriage where they waited for their parents and Anne.

  Emma’s mind was numb. She could feel tears trickling down her cheeks. She registered pain from having fallen to the ground during the rush to escape.

  “Emma!” Henry had his hands on her shoulders and was trying to get her attention. “Are you injured?”

  “It was Phillip,” she said. “He was hit by the bullet. I . . . I saw the blood,” she said as she stared at her brother with her glazed eyes.

  “Emma, answer me. You fell down. Are you injured?” Henry asked again.

  She didn’t understand why he was asking her if she was injured. Yes, she fell down. But she was also sitting with him in the carriage. “Phillip is injured,” she said again, trying to get him to realize what she’d witnessed.

  Henry pulled her into his arms and held her as they waited for the rest of their family. She didn’t understand his concern for her until she heard Henry say, “I think she’s in shock.”

  Twenty-five

  Before the gunshot rang through the room, Edward pulled Anne out to the patio for a tête-à-tête. Anne stood with her family, waiting for him to claim his dance. He’d done so without further delay. In the last flower arrangement he sent, he made it clear he wanted to court her; at least he hoped he had done so. His plan to take her on a carriage ride through Hyde Park had been delayed due to the accident on London Bridge. But it had been a few days and Phillip was recovered, so he planned to set a time with Anne for the ride.

  If they hadn’t been interrupted by the gunshot, he would have pulled her to a private corner to steal another kiss. He was good at kissing. He’d done it a lot. A new sense of guilt rushed over him as he realized he’d been engaged in a similar activity at Wentworth Hall and now at Almack’s when his brother was attacked.

  A loud noise pierced the night sky as he said the words, “Will you join me for a turnabout Hyde Park tomorrow?” Instinctively he pulled Anne to the ground as both glasses of punch flew from their hands and spilled down their fronts. He heard the glass break on the rock patio as he covered Anne with his body and protected her from the shot.

  The dance hall was filled with confusion when he and Anne reentered. Who, if anyone, was hit by the bullet? When he realized others were running to get out of the room, Edward pulled Anne toward the exit. He saw Henry dragging Emma out the doors.

  Edward pulled Anne through the room, then changed direction as he realized a group of people were gathering around his sisters. Marianne and Charlotte were holding onto Charles, both with their heads on his shoulders.

  “Is there a doctor here tonight?” Ashby called out to the group surrounding them.

  “I’m a doctor,” a man yelled as he tried to push through the crowd. “Will everyone please move away?” he demanded.

  Edward saw a glimpse before the crowd gathered back around his family; Phillip was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. “No . . . no!” Edward heard himself crying out. He pushed through the crowed but was blocked by people gawking.

  “Edward?” Lord Anthony pulled him into his arms as he released Anne from his protective embrace. “Edward, follow me. I will get you through the crowd.”

  He turned back to see Anne standing with her mother, her hand over her mouth in disbelief of what she’d seen. “Is he alive?” Edward asked, holding onto Lord Anthony as they fought the crowd.

  “I don’t know.” Lord Anthony shoved through the last few people to reach the spot where Phillip lay covered in blood.

  Edward went down on his knees, wanting to help but not knowing how. His eyes blurred with tears he blinked away so he could see the doctor holding a hand on Phillip’s head. Edward took his jacket off and moved forward to use it as a bandage to help stop the bleeding.

  “Edward, order our carriage to the back of the building. We’ll take him out where there’s less of a crowd,” Ashby demanded as he took hold of the jacket Edward was using as a bandage.

  Numb inside, Edward waited for the carriage. He ran back to inform his parents and found he needed to help carry his brother out. He held Phillip’s head in his lap, wrapped in the jacket until they arrived home.

  Edward carried Phillip’s limp body up to the bedchamber and helped lay him on the bed. His mother and father took over and told him to leave the room.

  “Marianne, are you injured?” Edward asked, noticing she had blood on her.

  “No, I was with him when it happened,” she said, walking over to Edward for an embrace.

  He held Marianne as she cried on his shoulder. They stood in the hall with Charlotte and Charles waiting for the doctor and their parents to tell them Phillip’s condition.

  “Master Edward,” Hodgens said as he entered the hallway with a tea tray, “the cook is planning to send dinner up as well.”

  “I don’t think any of us are hungry,” he said, looking to the others.

  The door to Phillip’s room opened as Hodgens placed the tea tray on the side table. Edward looked to Ashby’s face, trying to see if his expression would give anything away.

  “Hodgens, please take the tea down to the parlor,” Ashby instructed. “Have the cook prepare a small supper.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Father, please tell us his condition,” Charles said, unable to wait any longer.

  “The bullet grazed the side of his head.” An audible sigh of relief filled the hallway. “The doctor dressed the wound and Phillip is sleeping.”

  “Has he been conscious?” Edward asked, running a hand through is hair.

  “Yes, he woke up right after you left. He has a terrible headache, but he will be fine.” A smile crossed their father’s face as he continued. “The only good to come from this situation is Arundel’s memory is back.”

  The following morning Edward woke exhausted from staying up
late into the night. He spent time sitting by Phillip’s bed while his parents spoke to the constable and while the nurse and doctor made arrangements for care. He stopped by Phillip’s room on the way to breakfast. Phillip slept while a nurse tended the room. He decided not to wake his brother.

  As he sat at the breakfast table, he realized this was the first morning since Lady Olivia and her parents arrived that she wasn’t throwing a tantrum.

  Edward saw displeasure on his father’s face as he read the paper. “Is there something wrong, Father?”

  “Society,” he said in a huff. “There’s no way an investigation can be done with the number of fools Almack’s entertained last night.”

  “What does the paper say?”

  “The constable has over a hundred different retellings of the story. Some people said it was a masked man. Others say he had ginger hair. One person said it was a Scotsman.” Ashby sighed in disgust. “At this rate, we won’t find the person responsible.”

  Edward nodded. He ate and found his way back to Phillip’s room.

  “You can come in,” Phillip said as he lay supported by a mountain of pillows.

  “How are you today?”

  “I have a headache. The doctor said it will take time to get rid of it.” Phillip gave him a questioning look before he asked, “Aren’t you supposed to take Anne riding through Hyde Park today?”

  “She’ll understand if I don’t.”

  “Go. At least one of us should be happy.”

  “Is it true? Do you have your memory back?”

  “I think I do. If I didn’t have a head wound, I’d be jumping for joy.”

  Edward smiled at his brother’s humor. “Are you upset with me for courting Anne?”

  “I’ll admit I have moments of jealousy. But if it works out and you make a good match, I’ll support you in your decision. But if you keep skipping trips to Hyde Park after scheduling them, she’ll find another suitor.”