Page 8 of The Forbidden Lord (Lord Trilogy #2)
“You’re quite right, of course,” Lady Dundee said smoothly.
“If we introduce you as Sophie’s friend—a rector’s daughter from Willow Crossing—it will look suspicious.
Even if we continue with our current story that Sophie is too ill to attend the balls, people will find it odd that you’re attending balls instead of staying by your friend’s sickbed. ”
Lord Nesfield leaned toward her with a dark gleam in his eye. “So we don’t want you to be a rector’s daughter. We want you to masquerade as Ophelia’s daughter.”
When Emily stared at him in slack-jawed amazement, he went on.
“We’ll say you’re in London for your coming out.
You look youthful enough to pass for eighteen.
Both of Ophelia’s real daughters are too young yet to come out, and by the time they reach the proper age, most people will have forgotten all about you.
All you need do is speak soulfully of your dear cousin Sophie and how distraught you are over her illness.
A few balls, some breakfasts, and I’m sure our man will approach you. ”
Forgetting she was just a nobody and they were two very important members of the nobility, she said, “You’re both mad! It cannot work! Be a spy? Try to entice some man to approach me on Sophie’s behalf? It’s insanity!”
When they merely stared at her as if waiting for her to finish a tantrum, she fumbled frantically for some argument to convince them.
“No fortune hunter would come near me, and certainly not if I pretended to be one of the family! He’d be a fool to approach a supposed family member when he knows you’re all looking for him! ”
“But unless you pretend to be a member of the family, he won’t believe you have the power to help him,” Lady Dundee said in a placating tone.
“So this is what we propose. Once we reach London, we’ll make it known that you and your Uncle Randolph dislike each other.
We’ll portray you as a willful girl who ignores her elders.
That will make you seem sympathetic to the lovers, and possibly gain you the man’s trust.”
“If by some chance your supposed position as an heiress would attract the fortune hunter to yourself instead,” Lord Nesfield added, “that would work very well, too. That would demonstrate his fickle nature to my daughter and make her abandon her hopes.”
Goodness gracious, they’d thought this out carefully, hadn’t they? They’d planned an entire deception around her before even asking her to help them. And now they thought she would go along with it!
“I can’t participate in such a deceit,” she protested. “It’s not right!”
Lady Dundee patted her hand kindly. “Don’t think of it as a deceit, my dear. It’s an adventure, one that will help your friend. You do want to help keep Sophie out of the hands of this fortune hunter, don’t you?”
“Of course, but—”
“It’ll be fun,” Lady Dundee went on as she tightened her grip on Emily’s hands.
“You’ll see. Think of all you can experience.
A girl like you would never get the chance for a London coming out.
This will allow you to enjoy the town, to wear expensive gowns and go to the most prestigious balls.
” Leaning closer, she winked at Emily. “Who knows? You might even catch a wealthy husband of your own. Isn’t that a temptation? ”
Jerking her hands free, Emily leapt to her feet, every inch of her body bristling.
“No, Lady Dundee, it is not! I don’t know what sort of frivolous girl you think I am, but I don’t desire expensive gowns and a wealthy husband gained through deceit and trickery!
” At Lady Dundee’s surprised expression, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm.
“I’m sorry about Sophie’s predicament, but I don’t think she’d wish me to do something as abominable as this to help her. I cannot do it. I will not!”
Lady Dundee cocked her head and ran her gaze over Emily, as if seeing her for the first time. “How very interesting. A young woman with principles. It’s so rare these days, I hardly recognized it.” She folded her hands in her lap with a shrug. “Very well, then. I see you won’t serve our purpose.”
“Nonsense!” Lord Nesfield had been silent throughout Emily’s emotional outburst, but now he spoke out loudly. “Leave us, Ophelia. I must speak to Miss Fairchild alone.”
“If she doesn’t want to help—” Lady Dundee began.
“Leave us, Ophelia!” he bellowed, making even his formidable sister jump.
With a swish of ample skirts, Lady Dundee stood. “Very well. But don’t browbeat the girl, Randolph, or I shall hear of it.” She cast Emily a penetrating glance. “I may not agree with her motives, but I respect them. Besides, it does us no good if she gives her help unwillingly.”
“She will not give it unwillingly, I assure you,” Lord Nesfield said in a low voice as his sister swept from the room. “Will you, Miss Fairchild?”
Emily’s heart sank as the drawing room door shut behind the countess. She knew what was coming. “Please, my lord, you must understand my position—”
“Silence!” The marquess reached into his embroidered waistcoat, then drew out an object he kept curled in his bony hand.
“I was afraid you might balk at this. Never mind that I gave your father his living, that your family has been indebted to me since the day you were born. You think to ignore that obligation. Well, I will not allow it.”
He held out his hand. In it was a small blue bottle containing a few drops of fluid. She knew only too well what it was. Laudanum. The remains of the laudanum she’d made up for Mama, to help soothe her pain from her wasting disease.
The same laudanum that had killed her.
When he was sure she’d recognized it, he tucked it back in his waistcoat pocket with a grim smile.
“I see you understand. Until now, I thought it best to let everyone believe that your mother died of her illness. After all, it would have reflected badly upon me to have it known that my rector’s wife had killed herself. It would have caused a great scandal.”
“I don’t know for certain that she killed herself.” But of course she had.
On the horrible morning when she’d found Mama dead and the empty laudanum bottle lying on the floor beside the bed, Emily had been all alone. Unfortunately, just as Emily had found her mother, Lord Nesfield had arrived to speak to her father. He’d seen everything and had guessed the truth at once.
Distraught, she’d asked his advice. She’d wanted to confess all to Papa, but Lord Nesfield had insisted that she keep silent.
He’d pointed out that hearing how her mother had really died would hurt her father deeply—not to mention what would happen if others learned the truth.
A rector’s wife committing the ultimate sin against God would be a scandal so far-reaching, it would ruin her father forever.
So she’d agreed to tell everyone that her mother had simply died of her disease.
No one, not even Papa, was to know about the laudanum.
The sour pain of guilt gripped her as it had so many times before.
It was her fault Mama had died—hers alone.
If only she’d been more circumspect about where she kept the laudanum.
In the throes of great pain, Mama couldn’t resist temptation.
And secretly, Emily didn’t blame her. Perhaps it was wicked of her, but she thought it abominable the way the Church passed judgment on such matters.
“Come now, Miss Fairchild,” Lord Nesfield said coldly, “we both know your mother purposely took that laudanum to end her suffering. If I choose to let that be known, your father would be ruined.”
Could he do that? Would he be so awful? Yes, he would.
On the other hand, Papa would not want her to engage in such a deception even at the risk to his future. “I-I don’t know ...”
“If you’re still balking, let me point out one other matter. I have no proof that she took the laudanum herself. You might have given her the laudanum to end her suffering. This might not be a suicide after all, but a murder.”
Emily stared at him aghast. He had never even intimated … Surely he couldn’t believe …
Without remorse, he lifted his lorgnette to focus his gaze on her. The refractive glass made his eyes appear large and chilling. “I do not know what really happened, do I? All I have is a nearly empty bottle of laudanum. And everyone knows you dabble in physic.”
“But I would never—”
“Wouldn’t you? To save your mother from further suffering?
Granted, some might think it a noble gesture.
” He patted his waistcoat pocket. “But the law does not. If I decided to unburden myself about the events of that day to … say … my friend, the magistrate, and made it clear that you could have done it yourself, he would be very interested. What do you think, Miss Fairchild? If it came to a trial, who do you think they would believe?”
The room seemed to sway around her. The answer to that question was painfully obvious.
She’d have no chance against Lord Nesfield’s power and lofty station.
There was no proof of her innocence. Besides, even if she could win such a trial—which was doubtful, given his connections—she and Papa would still be outcasts everywhere.
“You wouldn’t. You couldn’t be so cruel! ”
“Your poor father. To see his daughter brought to trial for murder. It would kill him.” He gave an unearthly cackle. “It would kill you. And what a pity to see such a pretty girl’s life cut off in its prime.”
She shuddered. “You would lie about me that way? You would bring me to trial for a murder I didn’t commit? How could you?” She grasped at straws. “It would mean scandal for you, to have your rector’s daughter accused of murder.”
“Do you think I care about scandal with my daughter’s well-being at stake? You wish to protect your father.” He pounded his cane on the floor. “Well, I shall protect my daughter’s reputation and future at all costs.”
She stared into the fire, wishing it would spill out and consume Lord Nesfield with all his nasty threats. “Why me? Surely there’s some other poor girl you can blackmail into doing as you wish.”
“Because you are the best person for our scheme.” His impersonal eyes ran over her with the thoroughness of a man choosing a prize racehorse.
“You’re genteel enough to pass for nobility, and you’re clever enough to learn what you don’t know.
No one of consequence in society knows you, so you won’t be recognized by some friend.
The only ball you’ve attended where any of the ton might have met you was a masquerade ball, and you wore widow’s weeds and a mask. You didn’t even dance, for God’s sake.”
Folding his arms over his chest, he said, “So you see, it must be you. No one will know you, nor care when you disappear and return to your safe little life here.”
No one would know her. That wasn’t true!
Lord Blackmore had seen her without her mask.
Of course, she could hardly tell Lord Nesfield that she’d been alone in a carriage with his enemy, a man notorious for his associations with women.
For one thing, Lord Nesfield wouldn’t believe it.
And if he did, it would merely give him one more thing to hold over her.
Besides, she wasn’t even sure Lord Blackmore would recognize her. The earl had only seen her briefly by moonlight. He’d probably already forgotten her face.
Still, others might know her, no matter what Lord Nesfield believed. “What about Lawrence, my cousin? If he sees me in London—”
“Do not be absurd. A London barrister does not attend society balls. And if you happen upon him in the street, you can tell him you came to London with Sophie.”
She cast about in her mind for others. “What about the Gormans? And the Taylors?” she said, naming the two most prominent families in Willow Crossing. “They go to London for the Season, and they know me. What of the Drydens?”
“The Drydens’ grandchild has just been born.
They won’t leave their estate with the newborn there.
The Gormans aren’t going to the city this year, because they don’t want to leave Mr. Gorman’s ill mother.
As for the Taylors, their daughter’s coming out last year cost them so much they’ve decided not to go to town this year. ”
“But surely there will be someone—”
“If there is, I’ll take care of it.”
“What about Papa? How can I explain why I’m leaving him?”
Lord Nesfield’s lifted his scrawny shoulders in a careless shrug. “We’ll tell him that Sophie needs you in London. It will be better if he did not know the rest, for he might object. Or would you rather tell him the truth?”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Ruthlessly, she held them back. Wretched man! This was so unfair! If she ever saw Sophie again, she’d strangle the girl for doing this to her!
No, she mustn’t blame Sophie. It was her own fault—if she had been more careful with the laudanum, none of this would have happened, and Lord Nesfield wouldn’t have this hold on her. This was her punishment for that.
Still, to actively take part in his deception would be an offense against every moral precept! Yet she had no choice. She doubted God would want her to sacrifice her life for such precepts, especially when it would mean heartache for Papa.
“Very well. I’ll do as you wish.” The words were wrenched from her.
“One more thing.”
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “What more could you possibly want from me?”
“You must keep your reasons for helping me secret, even from my sister, or I swear I will make good on my threats.”
“Lady Dundee wouldn’t approve of your blackmailing, I take it?”
He scowled. “I don’t know. But I don’t want her interference. If you tell her the truth, I swear—”
“You’ve made yourself quite clear.” She straightened her spine. “But if I do this, you must swear to bury Mama’s secret forever.”
He eyed her through his lorgnette. “Certainly. Once I find my daughter’s secret suitor and put an end to his pretensions, you and I will be done with each other.”
“Do you swear it?”
“I swear it.”
I’ll hold you to that vow, my lord, she told herself fervently as he stalked back into the hall and called for Lady Dundee. Don’t think that I won’t.