Page 37 of The Forbidden Lord (Lord Trilogy #2)

Chapter Fourteen

The best way to get the better of temptation is just to yield to it.

— CLEMENTINA STIRLING GRAHAM, SCOTTISH WRITER, MYSTIFICATIONS

Hours later, Emily stared out the window of the carriage, thinking of what Lord St. Clair had told her about Jordan. So much heartache, so much pain for a child. It was no wonder he prevented himself from feeling. In his place, she might have done the same.

“You’re very quiet this evening, my dear,” said Lady Dundee. “Didn’t you think the dinner went well?”

“I suppose.” A thought suddenly occurred to her.

“Were you able to learn anything from Lord St. Clair? I’m eager to end my masquerade.

” If Lady Dundee had discovered anything conclusive, then they could tell Lord Nesfield.

Lord Nesfield would take action, and then it would be too late for Jordan to interfere.

Yes, Lord Nesfield would take action: to ruin Lord St. Clair. She bit her lip. Then Jordan would truly hate her, wouldn’t he? She was helping Lord Nesfield destroy his friend’s hopes.

“I’m afraid I didn’t learn much,” Lady Dundee said, her eyes sparkling with an irritating merriment. “We shall just have to go on a bit longer.”

Emily wanted to scream. “But we can’t. Lord Blackmore has figured out that this concerns Mr. Pollock, and now he’s threatened to tell Mr. Pollock everything.”

The woman looked maddeningly nonchalant about the entire matter. “Really? Blackmore said that?”

“Yes. He said he’d give me tonight to make up my mind.

In the morning, he’s calling for me, and if I still won’t tell him the truth, he’ll reveal my identity to Mr. Pollock.

The wretch! You know Mr. Pollock will delight in tearing us all down publicly.

What’s more, it will put Lord St. Clair on his guard and effectively end our chances to find out if he’s the one. ”

Lady Dundee waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, Blackmore won’t do such a thing, depend upon it. He’ll threaten, but he won’t act. Not as long as you are involved.”

“I fear you’re wrong. Especially after what I learned tonight.” She turned in her seat to face Lady Dundee. “Tell me something. You must be about the same age that Jordan’s mother would have been if she’d lived. Did you know her? What was she like?”

“Lavinia? She was a flirt. She enjoyed men and balls and never paid any attention to what her parents said. But then, I was a bit like that myself.”

“And Jordan’s father?”

“Oh, he was nothing like her at all. That was certainly a mismatch. He was the sober sort. Unlike his son, he didn’t spend his time with …

ladies of the evening. In other respects, however, they’re very much alike.

He was earnestly devoted to reform and rarely attended social functions.

Everyone was quite surprised when Lavinia, of all people, captivated him so much that he married her. ”

Emily hesitated a moment, wondering if she should reveal what Lord St. Clair had told her.

But she so badly needed advice, and she knew she could trust Lady Dundee to keep quiet.

Besides, she needed to impress upon the countess the gravity of the situation.

“Actually, Jordan’s father had to marry Jordan’s mother.

One day when they happened to be alone, the earl became overcome by his desire for her and they …

well … you know. Then she found herself enceinte, so she was forced to marry the earl. ”

“Poppycock.”

“It’s true! Lord St. Clair says so. Jordan told him about it when they were boys. According to Lord St. Clair, Lady Blackmore hated her forced marriage so much that she drank a great deal and made Jordan’s life a misery.”

“Oh, I don’t deny that Blackmore’s father probably impregnated Lavinia.

She was a pretty girl and very fast. Nor do I doubt she was the kind of mother you describe.

Married to a man who preferred to spend his evenings discussing Horace’s poetry and who probably wouldn’t humor her whims, Lavinia was the sort to turn to drink.

The poor girl had few resources within herself to create her own entertainment. ”

Her voice grew grim. “But I’d wager a fortune she was the one to seduce the earl, and not the other way around.

Lavinia’s father was a mere baronet and had little money besides.

The earl would have been quite a catch for her.

I imagine she thought it would be grand fun to be married to an earl … until she actually was.”

Emily considered that a moment, the creaking of the springs the only sound in the carriage.

Then she sighed. “If that’s true, it only makes it more awful.

Lord St. Clair says she always blamed her unhappy life on Jordan and his untimely conception.

She used to tell him that he’d ruined her life, that she was in hell because of him. ”

Lady Dundee pursed her lips. “What a dreadful thing to say to an innocent child. Lavinia never could take responsibility for her own actions.”

“That’s why he won’t trust his heart to anyone.

In his experience, opening your heart to someone is dangerous, if not disastrous.

” He must find her masquerade very suspicious.

It probably looked like the sort of scheming his mother had engaged in.

In a way, it was. “So he won’t hesitate to make good on his threats. ”

“But he’s already opened his heart to you a little, hasn’t he? He has yet to reveal your secret. And I don’t think he will.” She cast Emily that mysterious smile again. “Even if he does, it won’t be so bad. It might hasten matters.”

“You don’t understand. I tried to tell him I didn’t care if he told Mr. Pollock, but he said he’d also try to get the truth from your brother. He’s very persistent.”

“Then let him speak to Randolph. What does it matter? It might even be a good thing: Randolph might be forced to end this foolishness. Then I can convince him to accept St. Clair as Sophie’s suitor.”

The countess’s vaguely smug voice struck fear in Emily’s heart. “Oh, don’t even think that. You know your brother won’t accept the viscount. And he’d blame me for destroying all his plans. He’d never forgive me.”

“Pish-posh, what if he doesn’t?” When she saw Emily’s agitation, she added, “If it’s your father’s living you’re worried about, there’s no problem. I suppose Randolph has threatened to cut your father off. That’s why you’ve been so worried, isn’t it?”

Emily just stared at her, her fingers curling into the satin upholstery in frustration.

“Well, you needn’t concern yourself about that.

Even if Randolph did as he threatened, which I can’t imagine he would, I’d make sure that your father found another equally attractive living.

” She smiled and patted Emily’s hand. “So you see, there’s nothing for you to worry about. You must leave it all to me.”

Nothing for her to worry about. Lord Nesfield was willing to see her hanged, and she had nothing to worry about?

How she wished she could explain that to the countess.

But Lord Nesfield had promised to keep silent only if she did, too.

She was wretchedly trapped between Lady Dundee’s meddling and Jordan’s obsession.

“So don’t you worry about Lord Blackmore, my dear,” Lady Dundee went on, apparently thinking she’d solved all of Emily’s problems. “We will weather the storm if he speaks to Pollock. Or to Randolph.”

It was all Emily could do to paste a false smile to her face and give the countess a nod. She’d find no help here. She’d have to discover a way out of this mess on her own.

But how?

The coach slowed almost to a stop, and the sounds of horses and loud voices assailed their ears.

Lady Dundee peered out the window. “Oh, dear, the ball at Mrs. Crampton’s must be quite lively.

There are carriages and hackney coaches everywhere blocking the road.

We’ll have to walk the last little bit, I’m afraid. ”

They were nearly in sight of the house, so walking wasn’t too awful, especially with the footmen to aid them in the more crowded spots.

Indeed, Emily was glad to get out into the night air.

She only wished it was the bracing, clean air of Willow Crossing, not London’s smoke-choked ether.

She badly needed to clear her mind, to figure out some plan.

Gingerly, they picked their way among the horses and coaches, trying not to soil their gowns.

“It appears we’re in for a long night,” Lady Dundee complained as a coachman shouted to one of his friends.

“We won’t get any sleep with all this racket.

A pity. You’ll need all your wits about you for meeting Lord Blackmore in the morning.

” She cast Emily a sidelong glance. “You know he only torments you because he cares for you.”

“Cares for me?” she said in a burst of anger. “And all this time I’d thought you a wise woman. Obviously, I mistook madness for wisdom.”

“Sometimes they’re the same. Madness can be a symptom of wisdom.

Those who know the truth aren’t always happy to hear it, you know.

” She smiled and lowered her voice so the footman at her side couldn’t hear her.

“But in this case, I’m neither mad nor wise.

I’m merely stating what any woman my age knows.

Men are peculiar creatures very different from us, my dear.

When they want something badly, they don’t like to admit it.

No man wants to need a woman for anything.

But since they do need us, and for more than merely our presence in their beds, their only recourse is to hound us while stoutly proclaiming they only want their desires fulfilled. ”

“Lord Blackmore does only want his desires fulfilled,” Emily whispered. “Sometimes it’s as if he’s angry at me because he desires me and can’t have me.”

“I’m sure that’s part of it. Though I suspect that even if you were to leap into his bed and give him exactly what he wanted, he would still be unfulfilled.”