‘I see you’re dressed for riding, Richard,’ said Julia, her face all innocence. ‘Do you have any plans for the day, Emma?’
Emma flashed a quick glance at Richard.
‘Erm, no, not at the moment. I thought perhaps to spend some time catching up on some reading. I can’t visit Grandmamma today, as she’s occupied with one of her ladies’ committees.’
Richard cleared his throat.
‘Emma, if you don’t mind, might I have a word with you later when I return? I don’t expect to be out longer than an hour, so shall we say eleven o’clock in my study?’
Before Emma could reply, Julia giggled.
‘Honestly, Richard. That sounded like a summons to the headmaster’s office, not a romantic assignation!’
Emma coloured up, and Richard set down his cutlery and frowned at his sister.
‘I’ll thank you for not making impertinent remarks, Julia. It’s not an assignation, as you call it, romantic or otherwise. I merely wish to discuss with Emma some matters appertaining to the investigations.’ Perhaps realising that he’d been a little harsh, he added with a smile, ‘Why don’t you and Emma plan an outing for this afternoon? Hopefully, I’ll be free to escort you. Just promise me that it will not involve shopping.’
Julia, who’d initially looked as if she’d wanted to box his ears, brightened.
‘I say, that’s very handsome of you, Richard.’ She looked at Emma. ‘And I apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable, Emma. That wasn’t my intention.’ She smiled contritely.
Emma couldn’t help but smile back. She knew Julia meant well. As for Richard… In her opinion, he’d missed his calling as a diplomat. She felt a light touch on her arm and looked round to see Richard gazing at her intently.
‘Eleven o’clock. Is that all right with you? You didn’t say.’
She nodded, her arm tingling from the touch of his fingers and her heart hammering at the intensity of his gaze.
‘Y-yes, of course. I’ll see you at eleven o’clock.’ By then, she hoped she’d have a better grip on her nerves. He’d change his mind about her going with him to see Wheatley if he discovered what a quivering mass of emotion she became in his presence.
They all looked up as the door opened and George strode into the room. With a sudden loud scraping of her chair, Julia got to her feet. Richard, being the gentleman that he was, abandoned the sausage he was about to place on his fork and got up too, a puzzled look on his face. His sister hadn’t finished her breakfast.
Julia smiled at her husband.
‘Ah, there you are, George dear. A word, if you please.’ It was not a request. With a swish of her skirts, Julia swept round the table and pulled a bemused George back out of the room. The look of longing that George cast over the food laid out on the sideboard would have melted the heart of a lesser woman, but not Julia, apparently. Richard and Emma exchanged looks, and they both suddenly broke into laughter.
‘I think he’s in for a scolding. Poor George.’ Richard wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. ‘Wonder what he’s done.’
Emma smiled back at him. Julia was a prime example of a woman not under her husband’s thumb. She surely wasn’t the only one. Perhaps marriage to Richard would not be so awful after all.
At the appointed hour, Emma tapped on Richard’s study door and went in. He was slumped at his desk, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up.
‘Oh Lord, how long have you been there, Emma?’ he said, leaping to his feet. ‘I didn’t hear you come in. Forgive me.’
Yes, he’d been agonising over how to get her in and out of Wheatley’s townhouse without it being bruited all over town. He had to do it. If he didn’t, no matter the outcome, she’d never trust him again. He’d made a promise, and he never broke a promise – though keeping this one would surely kill him one way or another.
‘Only just this moment,’ she answered, frowning. ‘I could see you were deep in thought. What are you worrying about?’ As he shook his head, she added, ‘Don’t deny it. I can see the stress on your face.’
Richard shrugged.
‘Oh, all right. I admit I’m concerned about how to get you into Wheatley’s house. Or rather, how to get you in and out without anyone else discovering. I’m not sure how we can do it.’ He absentmindedly picked up the ruler on his desk and began to tap it rhythmically on the wooden surface. If only he could come up with a magic solution. He looked up to see her pacing towards him, recognising the determined look in her eyes and the set of her chin and wondering what outlandish scheme she’d come up with next.
‘Why can’t I disguise myself again? Pretend to be David? Wheatley has never met him, has he?’
Richard rolled his eyes. Here we go again.
He kept his voice steady. ‘No, he’s never met David. And I did consider that option, but now I’m having second thoughts.’ At her questioning look, he continued. ‘You see, I asked George and Crawford to accompany us. Safety in numbers and all that. They both know you. Haven’t told them you’re coming with us; thought I’d leave that to the last.’ Richard screwed up his face in concentration. ‘Crawford is discreet, I’d guarantee, but George?’ He shrugged. ‘He’s bound to tell Julia, and she will flay me alive for risking your safety.’ He sent her a look that he hoped conveyed his concerns. ‘It’s pretty unfair to ask the chaps to look out for you as well as me.’ Richard could think of dozens more reasons that he could mention – someone could see them arriving or the servants might talk. If Wheatley himself discovered the deception, he could easily ruin her reputation. And so it went on.
He sighed. Were those reasons sufficient to give her pause for thought?
But she surprised him again.
‘Blow the consequences,’ she said forcefully. ‘I’ll be the only one to suffer. As a man, your reputation wouldn’t even be dented. Besides,’ she added, eyes gleaming, ‘I want to get this matter sorted once and for all.’
Richard shook his head. She was infuriating. Infuriating but wonderful. He knew then that he wouldn’t be able to stop her, and if he tried, he’d lose her forever. She was now pacing backwards and forwards from the desk to the fireplace, talking almost to herself.
‘If George and Major Crawford see through my disguise, then we can ask them to be discreet. And if they want to cry off because of my presence, then so be it, but I’m coming, no matter what.’ She paused, her brow creased in a thoughtful frown. ‘Or… I could go on my own.’ Richard’s blood ran cold. He was about to remonstrate with her when she suddenly banged her fist into her hand. ‘I’ve had enough of hiding and pretending to be someone I’m not. If I can drag myself and my brother out of the continent and back to safety’ – she glanced up at him – ‘well, all right, I know I did it only by the skin of my teeth, but I’m certainly capable of confronting Wheatley in his den.’ She took in a breath, her chest heaving with suppressed anger, then looked him square in the eye. ‘If all this makes you want to withdraw your offer of marriage, I’ll understand.’
Richard gaped at her, completely taken by surprise. She’d actually been considering accepting his offer. Exultant, his nerves about the coming night’s exploits vanished. He could do this.
‘Do you really think this will make me change my mind? Don’t be a ninnyhammer.’ He grabbed her hand. ‘Since I met you my life has changed. I’ve never felt so alive. I was getting stuck in my ways and becoming old before my time. I don’t care whether George and Crawford come with us or not. You and I shall go together and take the consequences.’
By God, he meant those words. It was time to stop worrying about what others would think. He’d worried for years about doing the right thing, what with the responsibility of his brother and sister, not to mention the estate, the mines, and all his tenants and employees. He’d been sober and serious, dutiful.
Well, he would still
be all those things, Richard told himself. But he could also afford to take risks. He had to help Emma, and doing it her way would not be boring. If she was strong enough to go it alone then so was he. He and Emma would do it together – a team, partners. Hopefully, partners for life… if she would have him.
Emma was gaping at him, shocked into silence by his outburst. At last he saw her mouth move. ‘Oh, thank you, Richard,’ she whispered. ‘You don’t know what this means to me.’
‘I do, my love. Believe me, I do.’
The rest of the day raced by. Richard, buoyed up by new-found feelings of exhilaration and the realisation that he didn’t always have to be a model of propriety, retreated to his study to review all the paperwork and written evidence he’d amassed concerning Wheatley. He wanted to go over everything to ensure he’d not missed anything crucial. It all had to be watertight. If Wheatley decided to take him to court or, heaven forfend, issue a challenge, he wanted to be certain his evidence would stand up to scrutiny. He might feel more carefree, but he was certainly not going to be careless, especially over the details. Blake had taken sworn statements from the two informers prior to Richard personally interviewing them. Even though Bill Rogers had disappeared, his statement should still carry weight with a court.
The thought that kept nagging at him, though, was the possible involvement of Francis. Not that he believed Francis had anything to do with the murder attempts, more the fact that, if matters became public, his relationship with Wheatley would become food for scandal. Richard was pretty certain that the relationship between Francis and Wheatley went beyond what were considered normal bounds.
He feared that Francis would likely be punished if it all came out. Francis didn’t deserve that, and neither Emma nor her grandmother deserved the heartbreak it would bring. Richard knew that as a member of the peerage, Wheatley would not be prosecuted. The same could not be said of Francis. Francis would be the one to suffer any penalties that the law decided to dish out. Richard pushed these worrying thoughts out of his mind and returned to the task in hand, familiarising himself with every detail.
Emma spent the afternoon with Julia and George, who’d apparently been forgiven for whatever transgression he’d committed and was back in his wife’s good books. Julia had prevailed upon him to escort them to Ackermann’s on Bond Street. Richard, with his sister’s blessing, had finally decided to remain at home. Emma wondered if she, too, ought to stay, but he persuaded her that by accompanying his sister she could allay any suspicions about their intended outing that evening.
Emma, distracted by fears of what the evening might bring, listened with only one ear as Julia chattered on about choosing some prints for her drawing room.
‘It would be so much easier if I could create my own, but I was hopeless at drawing and watercolours. I never could quite get things to look as they ought,’ said Julia with a laugh. ‘Ask Richard; he’ll tell you. He and David used to laugh themselves silly trying to guess what I’d drawn. In the end, Papa decided to save himself the expense of an art master and allowed me to get on with what I really enjoyed.’
‘What was that, Julia?’ asked Emma, wondering what she’d missed by her inattention.
‘Numbers. I loved going over the business accounts. Papa capitulated when he realised I was picking up mistakes that he’d missed and I was actually saving him money.’
George’s face was proud as he smiled at his wife. ‘Yes, you’re a clever puss, aren’t you? And now you look after our accounts.’
That gave Emma something to think about. Here was another man who respected his wife’s abilities. Perhaps she’d been wrong about all men being the same. It seemed Richard wasn’t alone in treating the females in his life as rational beings.
After Ackermann’s, they made a brief visit to Hatchards to pick up some books before returning to the carriage for the journey home. Julia slumped back into the squabs, stretching her feet out on the seat opposite. Removing her bonnet, then stifling a yawn with the back of one gloved hand, Julia said, ‘I think I’ve probably overdone things today. Would you mind very much if I don’t join you for dinner, George? Emma, do you mind? I’ll take a tray in my room and have an early night.’
George shot his wife an anxious look. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, my love? I must say, you don’t look to be in prime twig; you look a little tallow-faced. Do you need to see the doctor? I’ll send for him if you wish.’
Julia batted him away with her hat. ‘Oh, George, don’t be a gudgeon. I’m fagged, that’s all. I’m sure after an early night I’ll be as fine as ninepence tomorrow.’
‘If you’re sure, my love,’ said George, then he frowned. ‘I forgot to mention I may have to slip out for an hour or so with Richard. He has a meeting he wants me to attend with him, but he assures me it won’t last above a couple of hours.’ He sent Julia another anxious look. ‘I’ll tell him he’ll have to go on his own.’
Julia leaned forward and grasped her husband’s hand.
‘Dear George. Stop worrying, I’m just a bit fatigued. I’ve been on my feet all afternoon, and I’ve been advised that fatigue is normal at this stage, in any case. You go with Richard.’ She sent him an impish smile. ‘Just make sure you come in to see me when you return.’
Emma felt superfluous to the moment and wished she could magically disappear and leave husband and wife alone. Blushing furiously, she answered, ‘Of course I don’t mind, Julia. You need your rest. As you know, I’m accustomed to entertaining myself. I’ve got lots of things to keep me occupied.’
Thank goodness Julia had no inkling of what she had planned for that evening.
Chapter 21
Emma paced back and forth in her bedchamber. She’d been doing it for at least the last half hour and was sure that if the clock fingers refused to move any faster she’d wear a path in the Turkey rug. At last, the clock chimed the hour, and without wasting a moment to check her appearance one last time, she slipped out of her room and glided down the stairs to join Richard in his study.
Tapping lightly on the study door, she didn’t wait for a reply before she entered. She was confronted by the sight of an open-mouthed George, who gaped at the figure she presented.
‘I say! What are you doing dressed like that, Emma?’
She looked down and smiled, as if seeing her costume for the first time – a smartly cut coat with a high collar, striped toilinette waistcoat, kerseymere breeches, and a finely starched neckcloth. Over her arm, she carried a greatcoat.
‘What, don’t you like it, George? I’m told it’s all the first stare,’ she answered.
George’s eyes swung to Richard, who’d remained seated. Richard took a sip from the glass in his hand and looked her up and down with approval.
‘Why don’t you take a seat, Emma,’ Richard said at last, ‘and I’ll pour you a drink before we depart?’
‘What? Surely you don’t mean…?’ George blustered. ‘You can’t possibly… You don’t intend her to be one of our party, do you? Do you, Richard? Tell her she can’t.’
George’s eyes were fairly bulging out of his head, his mouth opening and closing like a fish even though he’d stopped speaking. Emma struggled not to laugh.
‘Calm down, George. Yes, she is coming with us.’ Richard finished pouring the glass of port and turned to his brother-in-law. ‘Or just me if you now don’t wish to be one of the party. I must say, I didn’t expect you to be so lily-livered, George. Has my little sister really stolen all your backbone?’
George bristled. ‘Now look here, Richard. I wouldn’t take that from any other man. Julia hasn’t taken my backbone, as you so nicely phrase it. She and I work well together. But… but this is something else entirely. Surely you’re not allowing Emma to put herself at risk? We don’t know what Wheatley is capable of – or rather, we suspect we do, and that is even worse.’
Emma decided to intervene. ‘George, I und
erstand your concerns, but first, I should remind you that Richard is in no position to dictate what I do. Second, I am of age and quite capable of making my own decisions, thank you very much. Third, this problem is my responsibility. I’ve taken care of my brother since the death of our parents, and I’ll not abrogate that care until I’m sure all danger to him has passed.’ She waved a hand. ‘Richard has kindly offered to accompany me to this appointment with the duke, but if he decides he doesn’t wish to come, and if you decide not to accompany me, please be assured, I will go on my own.’ She took a sip from her glass and added, ‘Have I made myself clear?’
George looked at her. He then turned to Richard, who only shrugged. George looked back at Emma. Emma stared impassively at him, her mouth set. Richard continued to sip his drink. Throwing his arms in the air, George blew out a loud breath.
‘I give in. You’re both incorrigible. I have to say, I’m surprised at you, Richard. You used to be such a sobersides. And you, Emma, well, you remind me of my lovely wife. No wonder you two get on so well together. It’s almost a pity she can’t join us. She’d love all this.’
Richard chuckled. ‘It’s a good thing Julia is your responsibility now, George. I don’t think I could deal with two such females.’ Grinning at Emma, he stood up. ‘Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s be off.’
That was one hurdle cleared, thought Emma with relief. It only remained to be seen whether Richard could convince Crawford to keep to his agreement. They were due to pick him up outside his lodgings at half past the hour.
Some twenty minutes later, their carriage pulled up outside the Albany as Crawford was slowly descending the steps from the front door. The carriage door opened, and the major heaved himself in and settled in the corner seat next to George. Emma huddled in the opposite corner, half-hidden by Richard’s body. Neither of them were sure what Crawford’s reaction to her presence would be.
A Gentleman’s Promise: A Regency Romance (Gentlemen Book 1) Page 23
