by Jun, Kristi
Hot tears burned and anger arose. In all of her life, the only thing she had ever wanted was a family to call her own. But that didn’t mean accepting a proposal from a man who seemed to consider her nothing better than a possession, and the painful fact was that her brother expected her to marry this man. She had to explain to her brother at once that this was not what she wanted.
Her parents had written a clause into her inheritance that she must marry before she could inherit and that her brother must approve the prospective husband. Additionally, her parents made sure her brother had the freedom to amend her inheritance accordingly.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t have access to purchase what she needed. She had her monthly allowance and a quaint summer cottage in Surrey she had inherited from her Scottish grandmother.
Yet, even at the age of twenty, she didn’t have the freedom to love whom she wished, live the way she wished. Her brother had changed so much in the last few months that she was beginning to wonder if she knew him at all anymore.
“I am to leave for Scotland and will return in a fortnight,” Lord Foley said. “We shall make our engagement official then.”
Two weeks? She only had two weeks. Her dress felt tight, and the room seemed to be closing in on her. The hot tears threatened to burst, but she fought them because if she didn’t, she feared the tears would never stop. She must plead with her brother; he had to listen to reason. Surely, he would; after all, they loved each other.
Emily forced a smile as Lord Foley spoke again. “Until then, my lady.” With that, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. The instant he turned to talk away she wiped her hand on the skirt of her dress.
Her brother walked Lord Foley out of the parlor, leaving her to contemplate the disastrous meeting. Why couldn’t her brother see that they were not well suited? She couldn’t understand why he was making such a rash decision.
When her brother returned a few minutes later, she was pacing in the parlor. If she explained to her brother that she simply needed a little more time—maybe a season or two—surely he would grant her the time necessary for her to get to know her suitor before she made her decision.
“I must insist that you reconsider this marriage contract, brother.”
“I cannot do that.”
“Whyever not?”
“The marriage must take place as soon as possible.”
“Why?”
“We’re done with this conversation, Em.”
“How can you do this?” she argued.
The Duke of Kemp slowly approached with a frown and she took a step back. She never feared her brother before, but today would be the turning point. “You do not have the right to question my decision, not this time.”
He meant the elopement and the humiliation the family endured. She remained still, unable to find the words because his concerns were valid. He hadn’t brought up the elopement in many years. Clearly, he was provoked, and she needed to tread carefully.
“I’m merely asking you to reconsider the man I am to marry.”
“Do I need to remind you what you put me through four years ago? Thank God our parents weren’t alive to witness it.”
She shut her eyes and held back the resentment. Why did he have to bring that up? It was mortifying to know that she’d been duped and humiliated; he didn’t need to remind her again.
The years after the elopement were difficult. The whispers, offhand remarks, and assessing gazes made her want to creep back into her room and stay there for good. At times, it was intolerable, and all because she foolishly had followed her heart.
She’d eloped believing that love would conquer all. She was a naïve fool, wasn’t she? But then, what did she know? She’d been barely sixteen, and yet the painful knowledge that he only wanted her money was a sobering reality.
She understood, and she paid the price, but marrying Lord Foley was an entirely different situation she couldn’t accept. Hot tears burned again. “You promised you’d never speak of it.”
“And you promised you’d allow me to find you a husband in due time,” he said firmly. “Time has sufficiently passed. You need a husband, Em.”
He was right. She had accepted to marrying a man of his choice after the debacle. “I have agreed, and I want to do what is right for this family, but I must amend our contract.”
Her brother’s jaw twitched in irritation and he looked tired. She had never seen him like this, and she knew she must make her point quickly. It would be a bold suggestion, to put it lightly, but if she were to live out the rest of her life with a man, she knew exactly who she wanted. And if she didn’t take this chance, she knew she would not forgive herself. After all, even Kate had asked her to consider him, hadn’t she?
“I ask you to consider Mr. Hawk.”
Her brother’s brows lifted. “The American savage?”
“He isn’t a savage,” she said. “Please, listen before you say anything, brother. That is all I ask.” She wasn’t blind enough to think that Mr. Hawk would actually marry her, but it would surely give her time. The time she needed. Perhaps it would give her brother some perspective to come to terms with the fact that she desperately and utterly did not want to marry Lord Foley.
“I have been informed that Mr. Hawk is a well-educated man and a son of a wealthy landowner and merchant. Surely that would be enough.”
The Duke of Kemp frowned. “Unacceptable,” he said. “You are a daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Kemp, a distant relative of the Prince Regent. Are you seriously asking me to give you away to a crude American who makes a living chasing criminals?”
“There is nothing undesirable about his chosen occupation.”
“Occupation?” he said, appalled. “This is about breeding, title, tradition, and lineage. He is an American, a U.S. marshal who possesses none of these and is therefore unacceptable. It is an abomination to even ask me such a thing.”
She lowered her head in indignation.
“What kind of life would that be? Surely a man like him cannot provide for a proper lady of breeding and all that entails.”
“A loving family?” she said, lifting her head to face her brother again. “A happy marriage?” Oh, how she wished it were possible. Even if what Kate had said about Mr. Hawk were true, there was no possibility he would even consider marriage. The man seemed to utterly enjoy his profession. And yet, she could dream, couldn’t she? Her heart told her otherwise.
He shook his head. “We can’t always have what we desire, Em.”
There was a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. Was there something he was not telling her? Had he been in love?
He continued. “And we all have our duties, don’t we? My duty as a brother is to make sure you are well married and protected, to maintain your social rank and respect within the society you were born into. You may think you are above all this, but in reality, you will resent me, our parents, and the choices you’ve made once your sheltered life expires and you are forced to find other means to live out the rest of your life.”
“I am well aware, brother.”
“Good,” he said. “Now, I don’t want to discuss this any further. The announcement is going to take place in two weeks and the wedding will soon follow.”
“Have a heart. At least give me a season to get to know Lord Foley, if you won’t consider Mr. Hawk,” she asked.
“We are running out of time,” he said. “Stalling isn’t going to help the situation, and you are running out of suitors.”
His comment hurt painfully. She was well aware that many prospective suitors didn’t offer marriage, and she had an inclination why, but he didn’t need to be cruel, and she wasn’t on the shelf yet. “At least a month then, just to get to know him.”
“No.”
As he was about to walk away, she grabbed his arms in desperation. He didn’t look at her when sh
e spoke. “Adam, this man is rumored to have murdered his wife. How can you be so heartless?”
He turned to face her now. “Only a rumor, one which I have investigated. Lord Foley’s family goes far back to the time of the Henry of Monmouth, and he is about to inherit a dukedom from his uncle. You will be a duchess and you will have everything you have ever wanted.”
What I want isn’t possible.
“You will grow to love him, and I am satisfied he will make a good husband and protect you.” He stopped himself. Rubbing his eyes with his hands, he said, “I am tired, Em.”
She looked at him curiously. “What is wrong?” Her brother looked pale . . . weak.
“I just need to rest,” he said, sitting down sluggishly on a chair. “I need to inform you that I will be away for at least a week. I have informed the servants and the staff. Lord Blackthorn knows of my absence, so you needn’t hesitate to call on him if anything should arise while I am away.”
He’d mentioned to her that he’d be away, but she did not realize that day had already come. She watched her brother with melancholy, noticing he seemed thinner than usual.
“Leave me,” he said slowly. “Will you please call Anderson?”
“I will call your valet, if you wish,” she said. Her brother closed his eyes and seemed to sink down further into the chair he was sitting on. Right now, he seemed so fragile, so helpless. “Shall I help you to the sofa?”
He shook his head without opening his eyes. “No.”
Chapter 5
After the conversation with her brother, Emily walked downstairs to where the kitchen was located. It was a strange place for a lady to seek solace, and she would not presume to get in the way of the servants who were preparing for dinner in a few hours. But the cook was kind enough to tolerate her presence and prepare her famous rich pound cake for Emily.
It wasn’t very often, but when she reached out to her, the cook always knew exactly what to do and say. She would bake a delicious pound cake sprinkled with powdered sugar on top, and today was no exception.
What had possessed her to suggest to her brother that Mr. Hawk would make a suitable husband for her? But once she suggested it, she felt a bubble of hope forming in her heart. Clearly, Kate thought to see them together.
She forced herself to stop thinking and let everything settle in her mind. She would get some sleep and consider this more tomorrow, as she wasn’t finished convincing her brother that Mr. Foley was not the one whom she wished to wed.
She called for her maid to help her out of her dress, and once that was done, her maid left the room to retire for the evening. Standing in her chemise, she walked to her bed, trying not to think of the one man she was forbidden.
“Do not make a sound,” a male voice said behind her.
She froze, fear running up and down her spine. Turning to face the intruder, she saw Mr. Harris by the door that joined her private parlor. Why was he here?
“What do you want?” she said, covering the bodice of her chemise. The blasted man was in her room with his eyes on her. Scream, her inner voice warned.
“Cooperate and you won’t be harmed.” He remained where he was. “Scream and you will surely regret it.”
“How did you get in here?” From this angle and the glow of the candlelight, the man looked foreboding, angry, and this didn’t sit well with her.
“Keep your voice down.”
A madman, and she had to say what was on her mind. “You shot your own son. Mr. Hawk will find you and make sure you pay for what you’ve done.”
His eyes narrowed. “I have done nothing but try to help my son,” he hissed. “And Ethan deserved what he got.”
“You are a deranged man.”
“Shut up,” he hissed. “I have a message for you to deliver,” he said. “You tell Hawk to leave me alone.”
“You are speaking to the wrong person if you think he will listen to me, Mr. Harris. I hardly know the man.”
He arched his brow. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
It was the second time she had heard this comment this week. “You are gravely mistaken if you think he will forego his duty for my sake.”
“A man like him won’t think twice to save a twit like you. That is his flaw.”
“A twit?” she said in offense. “Do you know whom you are addressing?”
“Yeah, yeah, you call yourself lords and ladies, but you’re all the same. Fat and lazy asses who don’t know the meaning of hard work and instead lounge around all day in this meaningless extravagance,” he said, looking around the room to make his point. “Tell me, did you lift a finger for all this?”
“How dare you!”
“Deliver the message,” he said. “Your life will depend on it.”
“If you think he has any measure of emotions for me, you are wrong, sir. I mean nothing to him.”
“Tell him, or I will make sure you don’t see another day.”
Chapter 6
Kemp Manor
“Will you please keep your voice down?” Lady Wentworth hissed at Johnathan.
“It was at your insistence that I came.” His voice was curt and aggravated.
“Have some decency, Mr. Hawk,” she whispered and closed the door behind him.
The footman had promptly arrived after midnight at his hotel and delivered the note to him. Normally, he would have tossed the note aside and gone to sleep, as he was about to do. It had been a long day of making arrangement so he could return to Southampton and continue his search for Harris. But the note had been from Lady Wentworth, indicating it was an urgent matter. When he arrived at Kemp Manor, she quietly opened the front door and allowed him to slip inside.
“You did indicate it was urgent matter,” Johnathan said, entering the foyer.
“I did,” she replied. “But I didn’t think you’d arrive here in the middle of the night.”
“Didn’t your footman tell you I was coming?”
“My trusted footman did inform me of that, but we did not think you’d come now. A gentleman would wait until a proper time to call to discuss the matter.”
“First off . . .” he said. He saw the freckles on the tip of her nose by the light of the taper candle she held and fought the urge to count them. “I am no gentleman,” he said. Her eyes widened at that, but she didn’t move away from him. “Secondly, if this is a true urgency, then the matter needs to be dealt with now.”
The truth was, the minute he realized the note was from Lady Wentworth, the urgency he felt to get to her was rather disturbing.
She gave him a sideward glance. “It is urgent.”
God, where was that fragrant smell coming from? It was a hint of whiskey. And it was coming from her. Part of him was irked at himself for coming here without thinking. And another part of him wanted to taste the damn whisky on her lips, among other things.
“Well . . .?” he said, watching her eyes widen. Hell, she looked afraid of him, and that was the last thing he wanted.
She wrapped her soft, slender fingers around his hand, and he had a sudden urge to squeeze them. When was the last time he held a gentlewoman’s hand, one such as this? He followed her as they quietly walked up the stairs.
They both entered a room, and she lit each candle on the candelabra. As the amber light slowly lit the sitting room with its heavy curtains, decorative furniture, and ornate moldings that gave it a feminine flare, it reminded him of his mother’s private sitting room in Boston.
The fire in the hearth was slowly dying. The warmth of the room, despite the dying fire, was welcoming though. He’d been riding in the cold for over an hour in a steady rainfall.
“You’re soaked,” she said, looking at him.
God help him. Her hair was in disarray as if she’d just woken from a slumber. Her long brown locks fell down her back and gently fram
ed her bosom. The soft swells of her chest and the gentle curve of her waist that gave way to her slender hips was all too damn perfect in his eyes—dangerously perfect.
He quickly lifted his gaze to meet hers, and her soft brown eyes looked back at him with such curiosity that it made him feel uneasy. Stepping away, he pulled off his outer coat, hung it over one of the dainty chairs, and walked over to the fireplace.
“What are you doing?” she said, sauntering to him.
“Starting a fire.” He got on his knees and picked up the log inside the wire basket. “I don’t care to freeze,” he said without looking at her and placed another log strategically in the hearth. Then he added another until the fire was well on its way.
In truth, he needed a distraction, as she was too tempting. Being alone in this room with her was not a good idea. Once he was satisfied the fire wasn’t going to die on him, he stood and said, “What did you need to speak to me about?”
She seemed reluctant to answer at first. “Mr. Harris was here.”
Damnation. “He entered the house?” How the hell did he get in here? The thought of that sick bastard near her didn’t sit well with him. “Did he hurt you?” He should have killed him while he had the chance. If he hurt a single hair on her head, he’d make sure he paid.
She shook her head. “I’m quite all right, Mr. Hawk,” she said. “He wanted me to give you a message is all.”
As soon as she said that, a myriad of things ran through his mind. That murderer could have easily hurt her, so why hadn’t he? “Well, what is the message?”
“He informed me that you leave him be.”
“Or what?”
“Or . . . or . . .” She trailed off, as if trying to find the right words.
