Page 24

“W hat a shock to run into the Marquess and Marchioness of Waterford’s house party today.

And to have the good fortune of Blackstone amongst the guests.

” The Countess of Hartford said to Emmeline, snapping open her fan and waving it.

“He is still dreadfully handsome. My daughter has had her eye on him since the Season began. It is too bad you have been monopolizing his time. But you can’t possibly expect him to be still interested in you?

You are... may I be blunt?... past your prime. ”

The rude and hurtful words had her insides seething, and Emmeline wished she could grab Lady Hartford’s fan from her hands and slap the biddy on her cheek with it.

It was no less than she deserved for insulting her.

Instead, she would use her words. “If you hope to endear your daughter to Blackstone, insulting me will not help. I am his closest friend, and he heeds my opinion. He will not court or marry anyone I disapprove of. Lady Beatrice may be the sweetest, most polite and kind person, but her mother is not, and His Grace will not chain himself to a lady whose mother is gossipy, nasty, and invading.” Her curtsy barely existed. “Good day, Countess.”

Trembling all over, barely able to see from her anger and, worse, mortification, she wove through the crowd until she found a large tree and leaned her back against it.

It took over eight times of inhaling and exhaling before she calmed.

Never had she been insulted like that. It made her wonder if others felt the way the countess did.

Were they whispering and laughing behind her back?

Thinking her a fool as she paraded around on Andrew’s arm?

She had many insecurities regarding him and her age, but she had finally thought she had put them to rest. Obviously not, if it only took one remark from a spiteful countess to have her shrinking inside and her confidence scattered into the wind.

Well, she wouldn’t let her actions or words taint what she had with Andrew.

“Here you are,” Andrew said as he stood before her, taking her in. His brow cocked. “What is wrong?”

Shaking her head, she said, “Nothing.”

He leaned close and murmured, “I don’t believe you.” He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, his eyes piercing hers. “Tell me what Countess Hartford said.”

She shrugged. “What makes you think she said anything?”

“Because I know her. My mother disliked her, but she never got the hint and visited often after my father passed. She would come with Lady Beatrice and prattle on and on about merging our families in marriage.” He leaned closer and said through clenched teeth, “It is never going to happen.”

Emmeline let out her breath. “She told me I was past my prime .” Emmeline knew twenty-eight wasn’t past prime.

Many ladies married for the first time at that age and proceeded to give their husband heirs.

However, Countess Hartford had tapped into Emmeline’s own insecurities about her age and used them against her.

“What?” His voice rose and attracted the attention of several people nearby.

“I’ll tell her who is old, shall I? Emmeline, do not believe anything that gossipy wart-faced lady says.

Eight and twenty is not old. You are more beautiful and more youthful than any other lady here.

” His fingers caressed her cheek. “You are the only one for me. When we are seventy, I will still love and want you.” He held out his hand.

“Come. Let us go shopping and then visit the Pump Rooms. The carriages are picking us up there in two hours.”

Emmeline took Andrew’s arm as they left Sydney Gardens behind and walked toward Bond and Milsom Streets. Andrew led her inside a jeweler’s, and her pulse soared. “What are we doing here?” she asked.

“I thought I could cheer you up by buying you something pretty to wear on your wrist.”

The lemonade she’d recently drunk sloshed around inside her stomach. All she thought about was what they had shared the previous two nights. Did he feel obligated to buy her expensive jewelry because she slept with him? She took his hand and led him to a quiet corner.

“If you are buying me a trinket because I slept with you, please don’t bother. I gave myself to you freely.”

“Emmeline, my dear,” he whispered, an expression of contrition on his face.

“Please forgive me if you thought such a thing. I’ve never purchased jewelry for anyone unless you count my sisters and nieces.

I saw the store and thought that since you wear bracelets, perhaps you would like a new one.

It was an innocent thought. Please let me buy you a trinket.

It is the first time I can do so when you are free to receive my gift. ”

Feeling silly and embarrassed, she curled her lips into an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I believe lack of sleep the past two nights is affecting my thoughts.

” He was right. The Andrew she knew would never feel obligated to buy her favors, so why was she even thinking such thoughts?

When it came to him, sometimes her confidence and clear thinking disappeared.

He winked and grinned as though he had done something naughty.

“Come. Let’s look at what the store has to offer.

” Emmeline and Andrew stood looking over several pieces on display.

“Do you like that one?” Andrew pointed to a beautiful piece, and before she could reply, he spoke to the proprietor.

“The lady would like to see the gold and diamond bracelet with the pearls. And the matching earbobs as well.”

“That is too much, Your Grace.”

“Nonsense, my dear. Anything for you.”

“If I may suggest,” the shopkeeper said. “There is a matching necklace as well. Shall I get it?”

Emmeline noticed that the moment she referred to Andrew as Your Grace , the proprietor’s eyes had widened. He no doubt hoped for a most profitable sale.

“Yes. We will take all three pieces.”

Andrew tucked the box into his jacket pocket after the proprietor wrapped the jewelry in a black velvet box tied with red ribbon. When they were outside, he leaned close. “I can’t wait to see you in nothing but these jewels tonight,” he said, his voice raspy and laced with lust.

His comment, the way he said it, as though he were seducing her right there on the street, had her entire being tingling with awareness.

“You are a complete rakehell, Your Grace. Come, let us continue,” she said as she wrapped her arm through the crook of his elbow.

Thankfully, her knees didn’t buckle as her body still hummed for him and what he would do to her later within the confines of her bedroom.

“Now behave before someone hears you say something scandalous.”

This time, he laughed. “I’m sorry, Emmeline, but you look good enough to eat, and I am famished.”

Ignoring the meaning behind his words, she continued pulling him along.

“Shall we visit the Pump Room?” From what she’d heard, the Pump Room was not just a place to go and drink the restorative waters, but also a social place to gossip and mingle with the residents of Bath and those visiting on holiday.

When they arrived, Andrew and Emmeline made their way to the water table, filled glasses with the liquid, and crossed the room. Emmeline’s mother separated from a group of women she was with and made her way to them.

“There you are,” her mother said to her and Andrew. “Your Grace.” She curtsied. “I wondered when you’d make your way here.”

“Have you been here before, baroness?” Andrew queried as he sipped from his glass.

“Several times in the past when the baron and I were newly married.”

“I didn’t know that, Mama.”

She raised one perfectly shaped brow, enhanced by her blue turban, which matched her dress. “You don’t know everything about my life, my darling daughter.”

Emmeline smiled. “You are correct. Have you been before, Your Grace?”

Grinning at her over the top of his glass, Andrew said, “Not in many years. But it appears much the same as I remember.”

A short time later the carriages arrived, and everyone returned to Waterford Manor.

Since it was a day full of adventures, that evening’s dinner was an informal affair. Everyone appeared tired after their busy day. Once everyone who hadn’t retired for the evening congregated in the drawing room, Andrew asked, “Would you like to venture into the gardens?”

“That would be lovely.” Wrapping her arm through his, Emmeline allowed him to lead her into the dimly lit gardens.

They meandered through the stone pathways, occasionally stopping to smell the jasmine.

The sound of the nighttime insects buzzed a sweet lullaby and Emmeline’s worry about her age after the hurtful countess called her “past her prime” eased, and she felt lighthearted in the bountiful gardens on Andrew’s arm.

As they approached the gazebo, they heard voices drifting their way.

Voices belonging to Caldwell and Lady Clarice, and they paused, not wanting to intrude.

They could hear the deep timbre of Caldwell’s voice but not understand his words. Suddenly the breeze picked up blowing in the perfect direction because now their words were clear, as if they were standing beside them. “Why are you telling me this?” Lady Clarice asked.

“I don’t know. I suppose I just needed to relieve some of the guilt and tension strangling me since I’ve been spending more time with Mrs. Fitzpatrick lately.”

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know Blackstone is responsible for her husband’s death. That the three of you lied to her.”

Emmeline gasped and pulled her arm from Andrew’s. A sick feeling took over her body. She turned and looked directly into his eyes—eyes that looked cautious and guarded in the dim light of the gardens.

“Andrew?” She choked out his name as she tightened the shawl around her shoulders. Her body trembled uncontrollably, and her skin prickled with chills.

“Emmeline. Let me explain.” His hands reached out to grab hers, but she wouldn’t allow it. “Caldwell, Langford, and I may have left out some details, but we were protecting you from more pain.”

“More pain?” she yelled, even though it came out stifled as her throat clogged with anger and frustration.

“My heart is being stabbed right now with more pain in finding out you’ve left out details for years.

Years, Andrew. What am I supposed to do with this newfound understanding?

Pretend I didn’t hear? Pretend the truth wasn’t kept from me?

What didn’t you tell me?” Her heart was dying inside her chest. Turning black and hardening.

All her joy at being with Andrew was slowly disappearing and she didn’t know how to stop it.

“Please let me explain.” The panic in his voice almost got to her. She would allow him to explain, not for him, but for her. She needed to know the truth once and for all. Her future depended on it.

“Go on.”

“It is true; we had been drinking. We each had a flask of whisky that Aiden supplied. And since none of us were great hunters, we decided to ride off alone. We reached an open field that went on forever. I asked if anyone wanted to race.” He paused, ran his hands through his hair, and then tugged hard enough that he winced.

“Aiden said he would. I don’t know what was wrong with him that day, but he didn’t appear to be his easygoing self.

He seemed angry at the world. Angry at me, as if I’d done something to offend him.

He also said that since I was a better rider than him, he would take my horse to compensate.

I tried to persuade him, since he wasn’t a good horseman, but he’d set his mind on riding Merlin, who was hard to handle, and I ended up riding Langford’s mount.

“Hard to handle. But you told me he was docile right after the accident. Why did you lie? Why did you let him ride him knowing it would be dangerous?” By now her heart was pounding inside her chest so hard it hurt, and she could barely breathe to get words out.

Andrew ran his hands through his hair and groaned.

“I don’t know. He insisted, and I didn’t want to cause any more strain in our friendship.

And then the race started. Merlin took off, and Aiden used his crop on him, which I knew was bad.

I pushed the horse I rode hard and came up beside Merlin, who was very agitated.

I called to my horse.” His voice drifted off, and his eyes blinked back tears.

Emmeline barely breathed.

“Merlin came to a sudden stop, Aiden went flying. Merlin reared up and came down on top of Aiden.” He scrubbed the tears from his cheeks. “Christ, I’m so sorry. It happened so fast I couldn’t do anything to help him.”

His voice seemed far away, echoing from inside a tunnel as he explained that heartbreaking day. His telling of that tragic accident, and keeping nothing out this time, had her hand covering her stomach as she fought not to lose her dinner on the gravel path.

“I have felt guilty. The guilt ate me alive, and you know it. It nearly ruined my life. I dreamed for many years of a life with you, being married to you, but never at the expense of my best friend. I never wanted his death.” Andrew’s pain radiated through his voice.

She wanted to feel sorry for him, but it was all she could do not to step up to him and beat her fists against his chest, much like she had done the day Aiden died.

“Ruined your life,” she mumbled. “Your life?” Her words became louder as she swung out her arms to encompass the gardens, and she spun around.

“You are alive and breathing. You lived to see another day... years even. I don’t feel sorry for you.

He is dead because of you. I hope never to see you again. ”

Her throat was raw, her heart eviscerated, and her body and mind barely functioned.

She hunched her shoulders as her feet shuffled through the small stones leading back toward the manor.

Andrew called after her, but she ignored him.

She needed to get to the safety of her room before she broke.

It was coming, and there was not a thing she could do to stop it.

She could blame Andrew all she wanted, but it was his betrayal of her that hurt, not his role in Aiden’s death—not really. Her heart knew the truth about that. Aiden had been dealing with her miscarriage and drinking too much because of it.

Finally behind the closed door of her room, she collapsed face-first on the bed and let the tears come, tears that encompassed too many things in her life.

She cried for Aiden and her unborn baby, and she cried for the loss of Andrew.

She honestly didn’t know how she would face him again, or go on from here without him.