Page 22 of The Hellion and the Captain (Scandals and Scores #2)

Chapter Nineteen

“ O oooh, Emmali-i-i-ne, guess who is home?”

Emmaline’s head snapped up as the familiar voice rang through the house, echoing from the front entrance up to her bedroom.

Her pen, which she had been using to outline the ideas that had been filling her head onto paper, went flying across her bedroom as she ran to the door and down the stairs so fast that she nearly tripped over her skirts.

She likely would have fallen face-first into the front entrance, but instead, she went flying into her brother’s arms so fast that she nearly knocked him over.

“Freddie!” she gasped when she finally pulled back from his laughter. He held her at arm’s length. “It is so good to see you!”

“Oh, really? It was hard to tell,” he said, laughing. “I missed you too, my little hellion.”

He looked her up and down, his nose crinkling as hers often did. “You look… different.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused. “I’m the same as I’ve always been.”

He squeezed her arm. “You don’t seem as… soft. Or as pale.”

She reached out and smacked him on the arm. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been out in the sun, and you have some strength to you,” he finally settled on, pleased with himself, apparently forgetting that he had basically insulted her seconds before.

But that was Freddie. Living in the moment.

“What are you doing home?”

“I have a secret,” he whispered. “I’m here to visit a special someone. Her brother is to be married this weekend, so I was granted special leave. But I wrote you about this. I thought you’d have the date circled in your calendar.”

He was jesting, laughter in his voice, but he had a point.

Previously, Emmaline could hardly wait until her brothers returned home.

Her eldest brother, Richard, was now married and had a family of his own in Manchester, so while he didn’t live far, he was so often busy with his own affairs that he hardly had time to see her.

She and Freddie had always had a special bond, perhaps because neither of them ever took anything seriously – anything, that was, except football.

“Have you seen Mother and Father yet?”

“No. Father is out at his club, and Mrs. Clements said that Mother is at one of her meetings. Is she still as involved in the cause as ever?”

“Very much so,” Emmaline agreed.

“And still hasn’t lost all of her acquaintances?”

“She is discreet.”

“You haven’t followed in her footsteps?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked together into the drawing room and sat, asking the maid who approached if she would mind calling for tea. “I do, however, have an idea. One that you just might be able to help with.”

“I’m as intrigued as ever,” he said, his eyes, so similar in color to hers, sparkling with mischief. “I always enjoy your ideas.”

“Because you can partake without getting into much trouble yourself.”

“Usually, yes,” he said with a laugh.

“I would like to start a women’s football club,” she pronounced, waiting for his excitement, his support. Even Rhys had been encouraging when she had raised the idea.

But she was to be disappointed, and it hurt all the more, coming from Freddie who she had trusted in the past to support her.

“Oh, Em, you’ve tried that.”

“No, I tried to play for a team,” she corrected him. “A team that Mother and Father did not approve of. I would like to start a club with connections, much like one of the men’s teams, so that it would be more acceptable for women of any class to play, and they would accept me in turn.”

“Who would back such a team?”

“Maybe a man like our father?” she suggested. “One who would want to see his daughter do something to make her happy?”

Freddie sighed. “Listen, Emmaline, I know how much you love football, but you are five-and-twenty. Do you not think it’s time to let this go?”

Emmaline straightened, crushed that her brother would shove aside something he knew meant so much to her. But she refused to allow him to see how much he hurt her, so she responded in anger instead.

“Just as you have let football go?”

“Well—”

“Have you?” she challenged him .

“No, actually, I haven’t. But it’s different,” he said, having the grace to look slightly chagrined. “I am playing for Eton this year.”

Eton. That rang a bell in her mind, but at the moment, she was too preoccupied with being angry with him to pay it any attention.

“Well, I am very happy for you, Freddie, that you have the ability to pursue your dreams. Too bad for me, I suppose.”

“Emmaline, it’s different,” he said, raising his arms in the air in exasperation. “I know when we were children, we allowed you to play with us, but now, well, you must understand your reality.”

“Well, Freddie, I am ever so grateful you allowed me to play. I never realized that I was such a burden.”

“Emmaline—”

“No,” she said, holding up a hand. “This conversation is over. You have no respect for me, my wishes, nor what I would like to do with my time. You do realize who your mother is, do you not? A woman who fights for women’s rights, who is out there, every day, trying to make change in any way she can, despite all that stands against her. ”

“Yes, Em. I do know who she is, and I am proud of her,” Freddie said in a quieter voice. “And just what did that woman who fights for women’s rights say when you tried to play football? Even she saw the truth of it.”

Emmaline bit her lip as tears of frustration threatened.

He was right. Her mother had told her that she had gone too far, that it was something she could not force no matter how hard she tried.

And yet, the fierce realization hit Emmaline sharply in the chest, and her eyes burned with unshed tears threatening to emerge.

Tears that she would never allow, for she didn’t want anyone to have the satisfaction of knowing just how much it hurt her not to have their support.

“Welcome home, Freddie,” she said bitterly as she stood, passing the confused maid who stood with a tea tray in hand, until Freddie waved her forward.

“Where are you going, Emmaline?” Freddie asked.

“I do not need you to make my dreams come true, Freddie,” she said, pausing in the doorway. “Some things I must do myself.”

Rhys hadn’t heard from Emmaline in over a week, and he was concerned.

Even Colin wasn’t sure where she was or what she had been up to. She had not only missed the club’s practice on Saturday, but she hadn’t responded to any of his messages to find a time to practice together.

Even if others knew who she truly was, Rhys knew he was walking a fine line as her captain.

He was supposed to be looking out for her, and he was also aware that while no rules stated that women couldn’t play on teams vying for the FA Cup, if it was ever discovered there was one playing for Manchester Central, the fact he was involved with her would only make things all the worse.

Perhaps it was for the best that they spent time apart.

Even though he couldn’t deny just how much he missed her.

Then there was the information he had to impart. Information that he was not thrilled about.

They had been correct in their suspicions about who was interested in Emmaline’s activities.

He had heard from a few people, including Milton, the barkeep, and Mickey, one of their defenders, that Victor Reeves had been asking questions, and had even inquired with an investigator in Manchester to see what he could find out about Emmett Williams.

Hopefully, there would be nothing to discover, but Emmaline would have to be careful about where she went, mainly ensuring she was never followed. It would be hard to explain Emmett Williams walking into Lord Daughtry’s home in Ellesmere Park.

Rhys knew he couldn’t call upon her directly, but he could see the one person who knew her better than anyone else.

Which was why, the next day after he finished work, he was on Colin and Lily’s doorstep, hand lifted to knock when it was pulled open.

“Rhys!” Lily said, her cheeks flushed pink. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to speak to you about Emmaline,” he said. “Is Colin home?”

“No, he is at work with the solicitor he is apprenticing with,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “Could we speak another time?”

Rhys furrowed his brows at her. It wasn’t like Lily to be so evasive.

He looked her up and down. She was dressed differently than usual.

The hemline of her dress, made of heavy cotton, was short, with no bustle in the back, and she wore boots as though she was about to go walking, while an unusual cap held most of her hair back away from her face.

What was she up to? If something was amiss, he had a feeling he knew who was at the thick of it. “Is Emmaline here?”

“She is not,” Lily said, but then he heard feminine voices inside, and his urgency to see Emmaline and ensure she was well overcame reason as he pushed past Lily through the door.

“Rhys!” Lily said, hurrying after him. “Would you wait just a moment?”

He stopped before the drawing room, seeing two other women standing in front of him, only neither had a dark head of silky hair nor violet eyes.

He recognized Minnie and he thought the other woman was familiar, but he couldn’t be sure .

“Apologies,” he murmured, looking around.

“Emmaline is not here,” Lily said with a sigh, her arms crossed over her chest. “However, Minnie, Ada, and I will meet her soon.”

“Where is she?” he demanded, and Lily only crooked an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry, but I have not seen her in a week, and I am worried,” he said, trying to tamp down his impatience. “She did not attend our last—” he wasn’t sure how much the third woman knew “—appointment, and she has not responded to any of my notes.”

“She has been rather busy,” Lily said before sighing. “Very well, Rhys, you may come with us, but please do not tell Emmaline that I invited you.”

“You didn’t.”

“No, I did not,” she agreed before they started out the door, the three women all dressed in a similar fashion.

“Where are we going?” he asked as they followed the drive, turning toward a property that was becoming more familiar than it should have been. “To Emmaline’s clearing?”

Lily ignored him. “How is the bank these days, Rhys?”

“Same as ever.”

“Meaning?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a job, Lily. One that I am fortunate to hold.”

“You know, one of these days, you are going to have to realize that you are worthy of whatever you set your mind to, Rhys. You are not lucky to have your job at the bank, but the bank is lucky to have you.”

He stopped so suddenly that Lily and her friends had to look back to see if he was still there.

“Are you not joining us anymore?”

“Of course I am,” he said, hurrying to catch up, but Lily’s words were churning in his mind.

He had come from nearly nothing, but his parents had always ensured he received an education.

Still, all along the way, those who had given him opportunities had never let him forget that he could be returned to the streets he came from within a moment’s notice.

Even Mr. Chestermere, the man who had given him his job in the bank and the role of captain with the club, had made that clear right up until the day he died.

Lily stopped and waited for him, allowing Minnie and Ada to walk ahead.

“I can see how good you and Emmaline could be together, Rhys, but I’m also worried,” she said in a low voice.

“How so?”

“Emmaline cares for you. More than she has likely admitted. She doesn’t allow anyone too close, for she had been rejected too many times in the past, and the closer she lets someone, the more it hurts when they choose another.”

“Who has rejected her?” he demanded.

Lily eyed him thoughtfully, but didn’t comment, instead simply answered his question.

“As you have clearly noticed, she’s beautiful.

Captivating. Can engage people simply by being herself.

Men love spending time with her, and in the past, she was under the impression that more than one was interested in a future with her.

But they were only interested in having some fun before they found a woman to settle down with.

One who was demure, quiet, did as she was told and was educated enough to participate in conversations but not to lead them. ”

“Those men are idiots.”

“I only ask that you don’t become one of them. I say that from a place of love.”

“You don’t understand,” Rhys said. “For I care for her too.”

“I know you do,” she said, looking at him. “But I’m worried that you will decide you are not worthy of her and will make a stupid decision that will only hurt both of you.”

Her words hit a little too close, for they were not too far from what he had thought before.

“All I ask is that if you go forward with her, make sure that you are all in, that you are not going to change your mind or decide that it’s not right. That will only be worse for both of you, and I care about each of you. Especially Emmaline. No offense to you.”

“None taken,” he said, knowing how close the women were.

“Now, you are here because I know that you will support Emmaline,” she said, a smile dancing on her lips now as she glanced over at him. “Truth be told, it’s the only reason I am here. This would not exactly be my first choice of pastime.”

Rhys realized, then, just what they were doing here. It all made sense – the dress, the clearing… Emmaline.

“Do me one favor?” Lily asked, looking back at him.

“Of course.”

“Stay hidden until the end so that Emmaline isn’t distracted. But this should answer all your questions about what has kept her so busy.”

“Very well,” he said, settling in.

If nothing else, this should be interesting.