‘I met Francis Heslop today – quite unplanned, as it happens,’ he began. ‘I’d gone to Manton’s to practise, and…’
‘Practise what?’ she cut in. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.’ At his raised eyebrow, she coloured and sent him an apologetic smile. ‘Well, yes, I suppose I did. What is Manton’s?'
He grinned back at her, his brown eyes twinkling.
‘Sorry, I should explain. Manton’s is a shooting parlour, where gentlemen practise their skills with pistols. I had thought to brush up on my aim, seeing as I was so slow when I was attacked on the way back from Oxford.’
His words jolted her. How could she have forgotten how close he’d come to being killed? Richard took her hand and gave it a squeeze, making her skin tingle and her pulse race. ‘Now don’t worry, I’m being very careful. But you see how dangerous it has been and why I am anxious that you may get hurt.’
Emma pulled her hand away.
‘You don’t need to worry for my safety. The attacks have all been directed on the male members of the family, so there is no risk to me.’ She sent him a hard stare. ‘You’re not going to wriggle out of your promise to allow me to take part? If you insist on doing so, Jamie and I will leave for Grandmamma’s immediately.’
His face hardened. ‘No, I’m not trying to wriggle out of anything, as you so charmingly put it,’ he shot back. ‘Merely pointing out the necessity of care. I’m a man of my word, Emma. I agreed to your demands, and I will honour my promise, but it would be remiss of me if I underplayed some of the risks.’ In a more reasonable tone, he added, ‘There will be no need for you to go to your grandmother’s.’
Emma’s anger faded. She’d misjudged him again. The least she could do was apologise.
‘I’m sorry. I thought you were trying to persuade me to let you carry on alone.’
The lines about his face softened. ‘Apology accepted.’ Richard tapped his chin with a finger. ‘I admit that I have anxieties, but I know your mind is made up.’ His head turned towards her. ‘You’re a very determined woman, Emma Smythe.’ He settled back into the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, and sent her a wry smile. ‘Now, shall I continue?’
‘Of course, please do,’ she said faintly.
‘Where was I? Yes, as I was leaving Manton’s, who should I see but Francis Heslop. He had a beautiful pair of pistols, a gift from Wheatley, he said. They looked to have cost a pretty penny.’ Emma wondered where all this was leading. She watched as Richard’s brow furrowed.
‘Wheatley must think very highly of him,’ he muttered almost to himself. He lapsed into thought for a moment before continuing. ‘Well, I invited him to join me for a bite to eat. Thought I could use the opportunity to find out a bit more about him. As it happens, it paid off.’ Richard stopped abruptly and began to fiddle with his neckcloth. A flush rose from his neck to his cheeks.
Emma couldn’t hide her impatience. ‘Do go on.’
Richard shifted on the sofa and cleared his throat.
‘Well… it seems I was correct. Francis Heslop is your uncle’s by-blow, if you’ll pardon my bluntness.’ He flicked a glance towards her. No doubt to check she hadn’t fainted, Emma thought.
Seemingly satisfied that she wasn’t about to have a fit of the vapours, Richard continued. ‘Heslop’s mother disclosed everything on her deathbed. His uncle also confirmed the story to him in later years. Sadly, the whole affair brought his maternal grandfather to an early death.’
‘Oh, the poor lady. And how despicable of Uncle Frederick!’ It was not the fact that she had an illegitimate cousin that shocked Emma but the vile treatment Francis Heslop and his mother had received at the hands of her uncle. It was a good thing Frederick was dead; she would certainly have given him a piece of her mind.
Richard nodded in agreement. ‘Despicable indeed. Most importantly, I don’t believe Heslop is behind the attacks. He seems quite a mild chap, very open, and I’d swear that he’s without guile.’ Looking thoughtful, he added, ‘In my opinion, if he is involved, it would not have been in his interest to disclose the facts of his parentage to me.’ Richard steepled his fingers beneath his chin. ‘To be honest, although Heslop has the patronage and indeed what looks like the friendship of a duke, he seems to be lonely and in need of friends. I formed the impression that although his mother’s family do support him, he doesn’t see too much of them.’
Emma came to a rapid decision. ‘I must meet him. He’s my cousin, after all.’ Seeing Richard’s raised eyebrows, she added, ‘It is because of my uncle that he’s had such a poor start in life. I should try and make amends, or don’t you agree?’
‘Y-e-e-s.’ Richard did not meet her eyes. ‘There’s just one more thing I need to tell you,’ he said.
‘What is that?’
Richard toyed with his cuffs.
‘I, er… gave Heslop the impression that you and I were to be betrothed.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Her tone was icy. Inside, she was a mass of confused emotions – anger, shock, and… disappointment. Was he like all the rest, a man who wanted to control?
Richard kept his eyes averted from her gaze.
‘Yes, well… I thought he would open up to me more if I shared some intimate family news. And it worked, don’t you see? He told me all about his background…’ Richard trailed off. A pulse twitched in his cheek. For a man normally in control, he looked and sounded curiously adrift to Emma. Very puzzling.
Emma stood up, the better to confront him.
‘How dare you! Are you trying to force me into marriage? How like a man! You’re more like my father than I guessed.’ Emma’s words came through gritted teeth and pulsed with anger.
Richard leapt up and grasped her hands.
‘Please, hear me out. Heslop is the only person I have told.’
‘Yes, but it will be all over London when he divulges it to someone at his club, or shares it with the duke,’ she spat out. Men gossiped just as much as women, she was sure.
‘Heslop told me that he doesn’t go out much in society and Wheatley doesn’t socialise at all.’ Richard clung to her hands as she tried to pull them away. There was a hint of desperation in his voice. ‘Please, listen to me, Emma. If no-one else hears of this, it doesn’t matter and no harm done.’
‘No harm indeed!’ she snorted.
‘He’s not likely to tell anyone before I’ve asked you. I only told him that I was considering settling down and that I hadn’t actually asked you as yet. No gentleman would break a friend’s confidence, and I believe Heslop to be a gentleman.’
Emma’s initial shock and anger were dissipating, but she was still unhappy.
‘Well, let’s hope so,’ she said bitterly. ‘I’ll not be bounced into marriage, not to you, not to anyone. Is that clear?’ She folded her arms. Why did a female always struggle to be taken seriously? Why did it always seem necessary to be repetitive, forceful, and even loud in order to get one’s point of view across? And then, of course, she thought wryly, you’d be accused of being emotional and told to calm down. It was so unfair.
She jumped at the touch of Richard’s hand on her shoulder.
‘You’ve made yourself absolutely clear, my dear,’ he said, a hint of sadness in his eyes. ‘Believe me, Emma, I’ve no wish to be married to someone who doesn’t love me heart and soul. I respect you and will only ask that you try and trust me. And’ – his grasp on her shoulder became firmer as if to emphasise his words – ‘I am not like your father.’
Richard’s considered words dispelled her anger. He was not one of those who coldly and efficiently chose a wife on the basis of breeding and suitability. He was looking for love. She swallowed. Guilt replaced anger.
‘I’m sorry for accusing you of being like my father,’ she said haltingly. ‘I know you’re not. I was just upset that you’d spoken to Heslop.’
Richard gave a
dismissive shrug and stalked to the fireplace where he gave the glowing coals a prod with the irons, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney.
‘I can see why you would be upset,’ he said, turning round to face her. ‘In fact, I did think twice before saying anything to him, believe it or not.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘However, I decided that if I mentioned I was thinking of settling down and starting a family, it might prompt him to react if he was the person intent on ending the Smythe line.’ He propped his elbow on the mantelpiece. ‘I am convinced that Heslop most definitely is not the culprit.’
The words “starting a family” caused Emma to blush. Could she really live the rest of her life without knowing what went on between a husband and wife? Julia positively radiated with happiness, so it couldn’t be anything awful. And Mama had never discussed such matters. Lost in her thoughts, Emma jumped at the touch of Richard’s hand on her arm.
‘Y-you don’t believe Francis Heslop is responsible for our current troubles, though?’ she stuttered, hoping he hadn’t noticed her blushes.
‘Correct,’ he answered. ‘I’m more convinced than ever that Wheatley is our man. I’ll let you know if there are any further developments. Blake said he thought he might have something for me today.’ He turned to leave.
An idea occurred to her and impulsively she grasped his arm.
‘I’ll inform Grandmamma. I’m certain she’ll want to know she has another grandson.’
‘Do you think she’ll acknowledge the connection?’ he asked, glancing down at her hand still gripping his sleeve. She heard him swallow and immediately released her grip.
‘I think so. She’s not such a high stickler, you know. She was aware of Frederick’s poor reputation despite Grandfather trying to shield her from the worst. I’ll send her a note and arrange to see her.’
Chapter 16
It was several days later, and Emma was pacing her bedchamber, uncertain as to whether she was doing the right thing. She glanced at the clothes laid out on the bed. Boy’s clothes. Richard, true to his word, had raided David’s wardrobe and supplied her with all she needed to accompany him in the guise of his young brother. When he’d brought them, he’d been terse.
‘Are you still set on this?’
At her nod, his face remained grim, and he thrust the bundle into her hands. His words were curt. ‘I’ll meet you later in my study. Please ensure that Julia and George have no suspicion of what you’re about to do.’
‘Of course.’
She’d barely been able to meet his eyes. But why should she feel guilty? she asked herself. True, she didn’t like deceiving Julia, or Richard’s involvement in her subterfuge, but that was at his own insistence. There was nothing to be ashamed of in her desire to resolve the situation her family found itself in.
The proposed plan for the evening was to attend a small private musicale at the home of one of Julia’s married friends. Julia had thought it the perfect opportunity to introduce Emma to a select gathering. Emma judged that Julia would find it difficult to cancel the engagement because the hostess was one of her closest friends. But even so, she’d need to play it carefully, only crying off at the very last moment in case Julia insisted on staying to look after her.
Taking a final look in the mirror, she brushed a stray hair into place. Polly had purposely been given the night off, so any adjustments to her costume would have to be made by herself alone. Trusting that she would be able to negotiate the intricacies of the fastenings on her dress and her underclothes, Emma took a deep breath and went downstairs.
While Emma was pacing her room, Richard could be found in his study, deep in thought. Seated at his desk, he now toyed with one of the seal fobs in his writing tray, turning it over and over in his fingers. He’d already straightened every last item and book lining the shelves and moved the armchair so that it aligned with the corner of the mantelpiece, not to mention adjusting the rug before the fire so that its edges were equidistant from each corner of the hearth.
Sadly, he was unable to exert the same order on his thoughts. He’d again made a complete fool of himself by disclosing that he would only marry for love. Had he revealed too much? Richard distractedly ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he was about to do something even more foolhardy.
Why had he agreed to her demands? How could he allow her to risk at best a scandal and at worst her life by accompanying him to his arranged assignation with an informer? He’d managed to stop her from coming to the tavern with him, but this was ten times worse, and he’d agreed, for God’s sake! How had that happened?
The fob rolled out of his hands and across the desk. He didn’t bother to retrieve it but put his head in his hands as the questions kept coming. How could he ensure no-one would recognise her or discover her sex? How to explain her presence to Phil Cullen, who was also coming along? Richard’s mind continued in circles. There was only one small glimmer of hope. With luck, Emma’s plan to avoid the social event to which Julia was intending to take her would fail and she’d be obliged to go, or perhaps Julia would smell a rat and decide to stay at home too. He could only hope.
Richard tutted. The infuriating minx was determined to assert her independence. An inner voice reminded him that it was the same independent streak that had enabled her and Jamie to return home safely, and he ruefully acknowledged that it was what made her so damnably attractive. Drat it. If she’d not been so determined, he never would have met her. So he shouldn’t, in all conscience, complain about that aspect of her character.
His brow furrowed as he considered how his existence had changed. Before Emma had come into his life, evenings were normally spent conversing with like-minded engineering friends at his club, poring over the reports from his Cornish estate manager, or checking the accounts for his mining interests.
Tonight, however, was different. He was planning an excursion to a brothel and taking a lady with him. The very thought made him shiver. Emma was like a whirlwind, bringing mayhem to his settled way of life.
There were just the four of them for dinner. Jamie was having a tray in his room, and David was spending a couple of days away with friends. The meal itself was uneventful. Julia and George were so engrossed in their world of connubial bliss that they didn’t notice the covert looks Richard kept sending Emma’s way or her state of general unease.
Richard was already pacing the hallway just as the coach was brought round. He hoped it was too late for Emma to call off now. Perhaps she’d have a change of heart and leave him to deal with things. He heard a step on the stairs and looked up… and felt the air leave his lungs. Emma’s evening dress of brocaded sarsnet was in a shade of blue that suited her colouring to perfection. The square neckline was not too low, he was pleased to note. He didn’t want every other male leering at her. Long sleeves in Mechlin lace reached to her wrists, making her seem so demure that even he found it difficult to believe what she’d planned. Richard stepped forward to take the three-quarter-length velvet cloak out of Grimes’ hands and arrange it around her shoulders. He breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that she’d changed her mind about coming with him. Just when he thought all was well, as she reached the bottom stair, Emma lurched sideways and fell against the bannister.
Richard’s heart sank.
‘Oh, oh… oh dear, I think I’ve turned my ankle,’ Emma whimpered convincingly. Richard masked his scowl and bit his cheek when she winked at him. She really was going to go through with her audacious plan. The woman was incorrigible.
‘Emma, you do seem to have trouble with your feet, don’t you?’ he said through gritted teeth as he grasped her by the elbow and hauled her up.
‘What’s going on? Emma, are you all right, my dear?’ Julia’s voice wafted down the stairs, soon followed by the lady herself. His sister sounded concerned, and Richard hoped Emma was feeling guilty at her deception. He certainly was.
‘It’s nothing, Julia. I
just went over on my ankle. I think they’re still a little weak from my recent problems.’ Emma fluttered her eyelashes. ‘I’m sure I’ll recover with a little bit of rest.’ Her act was so convincing that if it hadn’t been for the cheeky wink, he’d have been fooled himself. ‘I think I should stay home and rest,’ she said. ‘You and George go on without me. I’m sure I’ll be fine enough to join you for another outing soon.’
She at least had the grace to blush, Richard noted, as she drew out her fan and began to waft it in front of her flushed face.
Julia was having none of it. ‘Oh, we can’t leave you like this. I’ll stay.’ She turned to her brother. ‘Richard, you go with George. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.’
Richard, despite his misgivings, decided to step in. He couldn’t permit Julia to organise them all and ruin everything.
‘Nonsense, Julia. You and George deserve a night out together seeing your friends. I’ll ensure Emma rests. A musicale is not my thing at all, as well you know.’ He caught sight of George, who was hovering uncertainly halfway down the staircase. ‘Don’t you agree, George? You and Julia should go on together? Just the two of you.’ He hoped George would take the hint implied in his final words.
George’s bemused expression turned to one of understanding.
‘Yes, of course. I’m sure Emma is in safe hands, Julia. Come on, we’ll be late. Emma, my dear, I hope your injury is not too severe, and we’ll see you up and about in the morning?’
‘Yes, of course, thank you, George. Now do go on, Julia, and have a lovely time,’ Emma answered, waving them away.
Julia sent her husband a suspicious look but allowed herself to be wrapped in her evening cloak. Richard noted with approval how George expertly manoeuvred Julia towards the door. The devil! Well, his brother-in-law’s evening was beginning to look more promising after all, the lucky chap.
A Gentleman’s Promise: A Regency Romance (Gentlemen Book 1) Page 17
