The Heiress's Secret Love (The Balfour Hotel Book 1)

by Amanda Davis

  Elias scoffed and Emmeline felt a pang of upset at the words.

  “She has promised to live with you, has she?” Elias laughed but there was no mirth in his voice. “Did you know she was married?”

  “You do not understand,” Honor grunted. “She was trying to spare you, Mr. Compton. You have never known the whole truth about Christiana.”

  “Enough talk,” Elias insisted. “If she chooses to stay here, I cannot and will not stop her but I demand to see her at once.”

  “As you wish. Come along.”

  The men shuffled toward the doorway and Emmeline stood, uncertain if she should join them or remain. Elias paused and glanced at her.

  “Will you not come?” he asked and she caught the pleading in his words.

  He wishes me to be there, she realized with both relief and dismay. Emmeline was not sure she would be able to hold her tongue when confronted with a woman who had treated Elias so terribly.

  She has ruined his life, trapping him into a marriage and mocking him with her endless affairs. Still, he worries about her.

  “Of course I will come,” Emmeline breathed, gathering her skirts and following the men.

  If I have anything to say, she will be deserving of every word. Someone needs to tell her how selfish she has been to Elias over the years. Even if it cannot change how matters are, perhaps she will show a modicum of decency.

  Yet Emmeline did not have high hopes for the future, not for Elias and not for herself, not when it pertained to matters of the heart.

  The landlady gave the trio a wary gaze when they appeared on the steps of the boarding house.

  “Mr. Wesley,” she said coldly. “You brought others.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Hammersmith. Permit me to introduce Miss Emmeline Balfour and her man.”

  Mrs. Hammersmith’s eyes widened with recognition.

  “Of course,” she cooed, her tone changing instantly. “You are Mr. Balfour’s lovely daughter. I understand congratulations are in order on your recent betrothal.”

  My word, terrible news does travel fast, Emmeline thought grimly but she smiled pleasantly.

  “Thank you. Where would I find Miss Compton’s room?”

  Perplexity fell over the landlady’s face and she whipped her head to look at Honor. He purposely avoided her gaze.

  “Miss Compton?” she echoed. “I thought you—”

  “I will see them to her,” Honor interjected smoothly, leading the way toward the narrow staircase. “This way.”

  “Her man?” Elias muttered, his mind still stuck on the crass introduction. “Do I look like a servant?”

  “You tried to pass as one not three days ago,” Honor reminded him smugly.

  “What was the meaning of Mrs. Hammersmith’s confusion?” Emmeline asked, ignoring their squabbling. “What name has Christiana used while here?”

  “You may ask her all you want yourselves,” Honor muttered, stopping before a door atop the case. He knocked firmly.

  “Christa, it is me,” he called softly. “Do not be alarmed but I have others with me.”

  There was no answer before he opened the door and Emmeline stared into the dimly lit room. There was no window to permit the graying winter light inside and only a single candle illuminated the tiny space.

  Inside, Christiana sat in only her bedclothes, her hair dishevelled as she stared blankly at them in surprise.

  “Eli!” she choked. “W-what are you doing here?”

  Elias stalked forward, his face contorted in anger and stopped at the edge of her bed.

  “Could you not have sent word at the very least?” he snapped, his face crimson. “I have been at my wits’ end with concern!”

  “Forgive me,” she mumbled, looking down at the worn quilt in which she was wrapped. “I had hoped you would move on without me.”

  “Oh Christa!” he yelled. “What have you entrenched yourself in this time?”

  “You cannot speak to her in such a manner!” Honor barked. “She has endured enough.”

  “I have been through every one of her endurances!” Elias growled back. “Much to my own detriment. Moreover, I am her husband and will speak to her in any manner I please. God knows she deserves much more than a chiding.”

  “No,” Christiana moaned. “No.”

  She eyed Emmeline suspiciously.

  “Has your father sent you?” she whispered. “I swear, I will not tell anyone who the true sire of the child is. Honor and I will leave with the money and you will never see us again.”

  Devastation rocked through Emmeline’s body as she realized that Antoinette had spoken the truth.

  “It is true then?” Elias asked. “You are with child?”

  “I will raise him as my own!” Honor cried, stepping forward. “I will make up for all I have done wrong in the past.”

  “Who is the father of the baby, Christa?” Elias demanded but Emmeline already knew.

  “Walter Greene. He is the father, is he not?”

  Christiana nodded, keeping her eyes carefully fixed on her hands.

  “I promised your father I would take the money he gave me to go but I wanted to see Walter myself. I could not believe he would simply send me away. The night I went to meet him, I sent word that I would wait for him by the River Thames but it was Honor who came, not Walter. I thought he had come to kill me.”

  “You should be grateful he only sent me and not a true killer,” Honor told Christiana. “If he learns that Christa is still here in Luton and that I did not do what I had been ordered to do…”

  “Why did you not write me? Why did you not come home?” Elias was as conflicted by the story as Emmeline. “Why did you not kill her?”

  Christiana raised her head and looked at Honor before turning her attention toward Elias.

  “I came to Luton for a reason, Eli,” she told him quietly. “I came because of Honor.”

  Emmeline looked at Elias but the tale was only growing more complicated by the moment.

  “I do not understand,” he replied. “You know Honor from before?”

  Christiana inhaled shakily and nodded.

  “He was the father of the child I lost.”

  Elias reeled backward as if he had been physically struck.

  “You have known where he was all along? You claimed he left town with another woman.”

  “I did,” Honor replied. “But I never lived in Peterborough. I was raised at the Balfour Hotel and I had a woman here.”

  “Susanna,” Emmeline murmured. “You were courting Susanna.”

  Honor nodded and sighed, his head lowered.

  “I was courting Susanna, a chambermaid at the hotel.”

  “You made Christa pregnant! Did you know?” Elias demanded, looking about in bewilderment from him to his wife. “Did you ever tell him?”

  “I did not,” Christiana confessed, tears welling in her eyes. “I knew he loved her despite what we had done and I knew he wanted to go home to her. I could not bring myself to force him to stay.”

  “It was his duty to stay!” Elias roared and Emmeline’s heart swelled with pity. “He should have married you, not me! You knew all along that he was responsible—”

  Elias abruptly stopped speaking as if there was no more air left in his lungs and Emmeline reached a hand out to touch his arm comfortingly, ignoring Honor’s shocked look at the unsolicited gesture.

  He has no right to judge me, not after what he has done, Emmeline thought, willing Elias to look at her. Their eyes met and she could feel the grief emanating from him.

  “Elias, you must listen to me,” Christiana said urgently. “There is more than you understand.”

  “I understand,” Elias spat. “I understand that you have always done what is best for you…”

  He paused.

  “How did she become pregnant with Walter Greene’s child if you had planned to be together?”

  Instantly, Honor and Christiana looked away, their faces an identical shade of scarlet. Emmelin
e waited but Elias seemed to understand, possibly suspecting the worst of his wife already.

  “You seduced him,” Elias intoned dully. “Purposely. For financial gain.”

  “No!” Emmeline gasped but the expression on both their faces told her that Elias had learned the truth.

  “Elias, this was to protect you,” Christiana murmured. “You do not understand. This money, it provided us an escape so that you could move forward with your life finally. When we were away from Luton, I was going to write you and explain everything—”

  “How am I to move forth with my life when you are in the wind, Christa? While you disappear and appeal to your whims, I would still be the fool who married you without recourse,” Elias scoffed, shaking his head. His parlor was white and Emmeline felt nauseous for him.

  “No,” Honor told him. “You are not.”

  “I am not what?” Elias growled. “You are a bigger fool if you think she will not soon tire of you and do the same to you. Fortunately for you, you are not bound to her by marriage.”

  “Nor are you, Elias,” Christiana replied softly. She nodded toward Honor.

  “What nonsense are you going on about now?” he demanded. “Of course I am or have you forgotten how I tried to protect you when you came to me crying?”

  “I have forgotten nothing about the kindness you have shown me,” Christiana replied and Honor dropped to his knees, reaching beneath the brass bedframe to pull out a trunk.

  “I wish I could have been the wife you needed and deserved, Eli. You are a good, decent man who has always cared for me, even when I did not deserve it. You have sacrificed so much for me.”

  “A lot of gratitude you have shown, Christa,” Elias grunted but his eyes, like Emmeline’s were on Honor who rose from the floor, a paper in his hand.

  “Look at this,” Honor told Elias, lowering his head shamefully. “But do try to keep your wits about you.”

  Elias took it and Emmeline stepped closer to read what was written on the page.

  “I do not…”

  “Oh my…” Emmeline gasped. “I-is this a true document from the church?”

  “The date…” Elias breathed. “It is three months before our wedding, Christa.”

  “Yes,” Christiana conceded. “Do you understand what this means, Eli?”

  His head swiveled to look at her in disgust.

  “We were never married. You married Mr. Wesley three months before me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Four Weeks Later

  “You look lovely, my dear,” Xavier told her, a smile plastered on his face. “I daresay, I have never seen a more radiant bride in all my days.”

  “Is that a fact?” Emmeline asked sweetly. “I do hope this is a day to recall for years to come.”

  “I am certain it will be the talk of Luton for many moons,” Xavier said, patting her arm and meeting her gaze in the mirror. “I will see to Mother and return to see you into the lobby. The guests are gathered to see you in your bridal glory.”

  “And my fiancé?” she asked. Xavier’s smile faltered.

  “He is there too.”

  “Brilliant.”

  Xavier paused to study her face carefully, concern touching his brow and causing it to crease gently.

  “I must confess, Emmy, I am rather surprised at this about face you have done regarding this marriage.”

  “There is no point in fighting the inevitable, is there?” Emmeline replied mysteriously but her brother did not seem to hear the underlying message in her words.

  “I did mean what I said to you,” he told her earnestly. “I will always protect you. You must know that.”

  “I know you are a good brother,” she conceded. “But you must not worry about me, Xavy. I am confident in my future for the first time in a long while.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin.

  “You remain my cockeyed optimist,” he told her, placing a delicate kiss upon her cheek. “I will return to see you to the staircase. Father must be antsy by now. You know how he loathes to wait.”

  He is not the only one, Emmeline thought grimly. She turned back toward the glass, examining her lace gown of blue. Her brother had not been fibbing; she looked radiant in the frilly, full garment.

  Carefully, she adjusted the veil over her face and stepped out of the bedchambers and into the sitting room. She had asked that she not be escorted by a horde of ladies or abigails for the event and her mother, in a drunken stupor, had agreed.

  There was a knock at the door and Emmeline’s eyes shifted toward the clock.

  Impeccable timing, she thought happily.

  “You may enter.”

  Her father stepped across the threshold and in the hall, she saw Joshua standing with his eyes cast downward.

  “Are you quite ready, darling? The guests are growing restless.”

  “I am,” she replied, looping her arm through his as they stepped out of her suite.

  A rush of heat tinged her cheeks and a burst of anxiety filled her gut.

  Dear God in Heaven, please ensure see us all through this. Amen.

  They made their way to the top landing and Emmeline gasped at the sight of the guests below. She had seen fewer at royal weddings and guilt surged through her.

  Emmeline’s amber irises rested on her betrothed near the entranceway but Walter barely looked up to her as he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  In a strange way, Emmeline knew she was doing him a favor, despite the way it was being done.

  “Come along,” Charlton muttered. Emmeline had not realized she had paused and she accepted her father’s gentle tug as they descended the stairs.

  As she neared the bottom, she found her breaths escaping in more raggedly and for a terrifying moment, she was certain she would faint dead away.

  You will not swoon. You will hold your head high and finish this as we have planned for a month.

  In her mind’s eye, the past weeks slid by in a series of images. She could see the grateful look in Christiana’s eyes when Emmeline had given her enough money to leave for Cambridge and start anew with Honor. She recalled the regret on Elias’ face when he boarded the coach to return to Peterborough.

  In her ears, she could hear the echo of his promises to her and her heart quickened.

  “Emmy,” her father muttered and again, she saw she had drifted off elsewhere, nearly tripping over the clergy who had been sent by the church to marry them.

  “Forgiveness, Father,” she said to the priest who nodded curtly.

  She shifted her body toward Walter Greene who grunted inappropriately and she waited for him to lift her veil which he did not do until Xavier whispered for him to do so.

  With clumsy fingers, he moved the heavy lace cover from her face but he still would not meet her eyes.

  “Shall we begin?” the priest asked.

  Emmeline said nothing but as she stared at Walter Greene, she was filled with a peculiar feeling of both pity and contempt for the man with whom she had been matched.

  “Let us get this over with,” he snapped and inexplicably, Emmeline found his words amusing.

  “My sentiments precisely,” she informed him. He looked at her in surprise and Emmeline did not need to look at her father to feel the look of disapproval radiating from him.

  “Before we commence,” Emmeline said. “I have something I would like to say.”

  There was a murmur of confusion in the crowd.

  “Emmeline,” Charlton hissed. “This is highly unusual.”

  “I agree, Father. Everything about this is unusual. For example, how is it you have come to be so indebted to Mr. Greene?”

  The mutterings grew louder and this time she did look to her father, his shock almost palpable.

  “Emmeline!”

  “Yes, Father?”

  “How dare you?”

  “I dare because I believe I am deserve to know why I have been auctioned off to this man who, as all of Luton knows, is nothing m
ore than a bookmaker. You have gotten indebted to a ruffian and I am your way out of it, am I not?”

  The crowd was intrigued and awed by Emmeline’s questions but Charlton was incensed. He grabbed his daughter by the arm and yanked her toward his office.

  “Pardon us, Father,” he hissed. “We will return in one moment’s time.”

  As she had expected, Emmeline was shoved unceremoniously inside the office and she waited for Charlton to unleash his fury upon her.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he choked. “You wish to humiliate me before the entire town?”

  “Not you, Father but Mr. Greene,” Emmeline replied evenly. “Not that I am telling them anything they do not know about him. It is hardly a secret that you have aligned yourself with a criminal, Father.”

  “Do you not realize how your behavior affects the hotel?” Charlton hissed, his breaths short and wheezy.

  “And what of bringing a bookmaker into the hotel as an owner?” Emmeline countered. “How does that look for the hotel? We cater to royalty, Father, noblemen and aristocrats. What were you thinking?”

  Charlton’s face was nearly opaque.

  “I do not have a choice,” he whispered. “If I do not pay him what is owed, I have no idea what he will do.”

  “Father,” Emmeline told him gently. “He has no interest in marrying me. He only wishes to take a stake in this hotel. We will find another way to get him the money but I assure you, if you allow him to get a stake in our legacy, it will be the beginning of the end for the Balfours.”

  “You speak as though you have another idea in mind,” Charlton said bitterly. “We have not the money to repay our debts, not in full and that is what he demands.”

  “I will pay your debts for you, Father but I will need to marry another to do so and you will need to give him the same offer you gave Mr. Greene. Thirty percent of the hotel.”

  “Why would I agree to sell to a stranger?” Charlton demanded, aghast. “For all I know, he will be just as unfair a business partner!”

  It did not escape Emmeline’s notice that he did not much care who she married provided his precious hotel was secure.