“Oh, these men,” Emilia whispered to herself.
Not only had Lord Pendergast sworn to woo her, he had also threatened Kingsley and Simon on the basest level. How was it that the duke knew of such things? Why had he never done anything about it? Emilia assumed that there was simply no reason to, but now that Lord Pendergast had a fresh aim, that information would be hung over her head like a black cloud of doom.
Emilia looked out the window as gentle rain began to fall. Her situation seemed impossibly broken. How could she pick up the pieces and fix it? She desired at once to be with Simon. She wanted the warmth and reassurance of having him near.
Should she get a hackney coach and go to Montgomery House that very moment? Emilia didn’t wish Simon to see her desperation, but she didn’t know where else to turn. She desired his reassurance, even if only by words.
As the rain continued to fall, Emilia thought of the kiss that she and Simon had shared in the studio. That was the last moment in which she felt safe.
It was the very end of the letter that Emilia found most difficult to stomach. Lord Pendergast had said that all would be forgotten if Emilia decided to marry him. To marry him? To marry the man that had abused and betrayed her? For Emilia, it seemed unconscionable. How was she supposed to marry such a tyrant, especially considering that she was in love with Simon James?
Without bothering to return to the dining room and say what had happened, Emilia decided that she was very much in need of a stroll. Fetching her coat, she walked outside into the rain, not caring one jot about her hair or what onlookers might think. Emilia needed to clear her mind and decide what action she should take.
To inform Simon of what had occurred would be the wrong move, for surely, the man would say in no uncertain terms that she should not relinquish herself to Lord Pendergast’s requests. Simon would yet again insist that he could take care of the problem and that Emilia should trust him.
Of course, she knew that she could trust him, and deep in her heart, Emilia wished that Simon would be the one who would take action, but considering the serious nature of Lord Pendergast’s letter, Emilia thought it was impossible.
The ball had been placed in her court, and she was the only one that would decide what would become of them all. Yes, everyone’s fate rested in her hands, and Emilia was going to have to make the biggest decision of her life.
Walking in the rain, Emilia found it very freeing to feel her skin dampen. Maybe the water would wash her clean of all that sordid business. Emilia took a deep breath, hoping that that would cleanse her, as well. There was no use in pretending that everything was going to be all right.
Emilia was an optimistic person, but there was no freedom from the nightmare that entrapped her. Regret filled her as Emilia realized that perhaps the plan that she and Simon had executed had actually made things worse. By refusing Lord Pendergast’s courtship, it only made him more adamant and thus laid that ultimatum upon her head. Had everything been a mistake?
In her heart of hearts, she couldn’t entirely think so. The time that they had spent pretending to be companions had been some of the happiest that Emilia had ever known. Simon was everything that she wished for in a man, and so much more.
Walking down the street, there were passers-by on either side, but Emilia scarce noticed them. She felt small, alone, and like the only person in all of London. A sea of umbrellas filled the expanse, and carriages kicked up dirt and mud as they passed down the cobbled streets.
As much as she’d like to avoid it, Emilia knew that she was about to decide her own fate. There, on the streets of London, walking in the rain, the rest of Emilia’s years would be determined.
“Are you lost?” a rather rotund, elderly woman asked. She, herself, was carrying an umbrella.
“Pardon me?” Emilia asked.
“I said, are ye lost?”
“Do I look lost?”
“That you do.”
Emilia had to smile to herself. Yes, she must look impossibly lost, wandering to heaven-knows-where in the rain, without an umbrella, an empty look in her eyes.
“I’m merely taking the air,” Emilia said.
The older woman knit her brow, no doubt considering that a young lady was walking unescorted. Perhaps it was a grandmother, feeling the same horror as if it were her own granddaughter.
“Well, best mind yourself,” the old lady said with a nod of the head before moving on.
“I will,” Emilia assured her.
As she continued to walk, Emilia considered the time when Simon was on the streets, trying his best to live his life. How could it have been possible? How did he stay warm? Where did he get his food? Then Emilia considered how resourceful Simon was, and it made sense that he had found a way.
As she had hoped, Emilia’s head began to clear, but not her heart. She wished desperately to have Simon beside her at that moment. She wanted him to hold her hand and reassure her, but sadly, the decision that she was about to make would not prove to be in his favour.
Emilia would marry Lord Pendergast.
She wasn’t sure when the realization came up her, but Emilia knew that denying his suit would be throwing Rose to the wolves. What’s more, she’d also be ruining Kingsley and Simon’s reputations. There was no way that Emilia could do that and then endure the rest of her life. If she gave up her own happiness, so be it.
Both Simon and Rose could go on to live happy lives, and Emilia would do her best to find happiness in her own life. She was quite sure at that point that she would receive no fidelity from Lord Pendergast, but that was no matter. If he continued with his philandering ways, perhaps he’d leave Emilia alone to live a separate life.
Her heart was aching, despite the clear decision. Emilia would be giving up the only man that she had ever loved to save those that she loved. It was an impossible situation to be in, but Emilia knew that there was no way out. Despite her deep, undying love for Simon, Emilia would become the Duchess of Westmoreland. And for the rest of her days, she’d think of Simon James and smile.
As Emilia continued to walk, the desire to see Simon only grew and grew. Even though her decision was made, he would need to be told at once. It was out of respect that he must hear it from her. She considered how heartbroken he had been when he learned of Lady Susana’s engagement from other sources.
Emilia would not create the same burden for him. Somewhere deep down, Emilia even wished that perhaps Lady Susana would fling herself into Simon’s arms again, so that he would see that some benefit came from their plan, after all.
Even though it pained Emilia to have things end the way that they did, she needed to continuously remind herself that Simon was never her fiancé to begin with. It was all for show. How could Emilia truly lose something that was never hers? What she was doing made sense practically, and it was the only way. Her heart would be bereft, even if she and Simon were merely pretending.
As time stretched on, Emilia knew that it was imperative to get out of the rain. She’d venture to Montgomery House that very evening. There was no time to tell Rose and her father. If need be, she’d send a letter from Harlow Greens upon arrival.
It was not respectful to her family to do such a thing, nor to go to Montgomery House unescorted, but the situation was so fraught with severity that Emilia saw no other option. She signalled the first hackney coach that passed and was on her way.
Chapter 21
The evening wore on, and Simon was deep in thought. He and Kingsley had concluded their work for the day and had enjoyed a light supper. He was content to go up to his room at an early hour to practice his painting, but thoughts of Emilia prevented him. Where was she at that moment? Was she thinking of him, just as he was thinking of her?
Since receiving Lady Susana’s letter, Simon had thought over it again and again. It was impossible to trust the woman, and although his ego was assuaged by her letter, there was no way that he could respond to it in good time. The woman had utterly ripped his heart out of
his chest, and there was no going back. Now, it was only Emilia that sat in his heart and mind, and there she would remain.
Simon returned to that evening in the studio, where he told Emilia that he needed to know for sure that his whole heart was involved in order to determine if he was the right man for her. In the time that had followed, Simon had given it a great deal of consideration and concluded that he, indeed, was the man. He’d do everything in his power to make her happy. It was beginning to dawn on Simon that he truly wished for Emilia to be his wife.
He knew that absence played a role in this. Every moment where Emilia was not by his side was heightened with need. He wished to see her every moment of every day. Simon would think of little things that he wished to show her or say to her as the day progressed.
He wanted Emilia to be in the studio with him and Kingsley so that she could see what it was that they were doing. Simon wanted to fall asleep with Emilia by his side and wake up to her in the morning. This remarkable need for her presence made it almost impossible to be away from her. That’s what helped Simon to see that he was in love.
Walking downstairs to make arrangements for the following day, Simon heard a bashful knock on the door. Considering that Rutledge had no doubt retired for the night, Simon walked down the hall in curiosity, wondering who it might be. Surely, at that hour, it needed to be some kind of emergency for someone to pay a call. Opening the door of Montgomery House, excitement filled him as Simon saw Emilia standing before him, drenched with rain and shivering. He quickly reached out his hand and pulled her inside as though she were as light as air. Once inside, Emilia threw her arms around him. She was frightfully cold, and Simon led her into the parlour so that they might be in front of the fire.
“Emilia, what on earth?”
“I’m sorry that this is unexpected.”
“You’re shivering.”
“I was taking a walk in town.”
“And with no protection?” Simon asked.
“There was no time,” Emilia said.
Simon sat upon a chair, and before he could even question his actions, he pulled Emilia onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her torso, trying to transmit some of the heat from his own warm body. He could feel that she was still shivering and Simon began to gently rub her back with his warm hands. He did not elicit explanation at first. Simon thought it best for Emilia to become warm before she explained herself. Besides, her arrival needed no explanation; she could come or go whenever she pleased.
“It was important that I come,” Emilia finally said.
“What has happened?”
“There is so much to say.”
“Speak!”
Instead of speaking, Simon watched as Emilia closed her eyes and gently leaned into him, as though in a trance. She was soliciting a kiss, and Simon was more than happy to oblige. Her lips were cold, and Simon wished to kiss her for the rest of the evening, if only so that her lips might become warm again.
Simon closed his eyes, as well, and delighted in the feeling of Emilia seated on his lap, his lips upon hers in ecstasy. Simon continued to rub her back, wishing to calm her. No doubt, something had occurred which made Emilia fearful. It always pained Simon to see it. Now that she was in his presence, Emilia had no need to fear. Even more so since she was in his arms.
Simon watched as Emilia pulled away, sadness and longing in her eyes. He desperately wished for her to tell him more so that he might get to the bottom of things and provide help and support.
“I know what troubles you,” Simon said, bringing a hand to her cheek.
“I have made a decision, Simon,” Emilia said.
“Tell me everything.”
“I can’t put Rose in jeopardy any longer, or yourself. I must do something that I’m ashamed to admit to.”
“Say it,” Simon said, dread and fear filling him.
“I received a letter from Lord Pendergast informing me that he will come out with the truth if I don’t marry him.”
Simon’s fear turned into rage. There was no way that that was going to happen. Simon would walk to the end of the Earth to make sure that it did not happen. “That’s impossible.”
“I’m afraid that it’s the only way. I have decided to do what he is asking me to do.”
“Emilia.”
“There’s no use in protesting; I have made up my mind. I plan to write Lord Pendergast a letter informing him that I will be his wife if he’s willing to keep this secret till his dying day, and leave my sister alone, as well.”
“I can’t bear to listen to this.”
“And I was afraid of telling you. But this is how it must be, Simon. I admit to having strong affections for you, but we can’t keep up this charade any longer. We tried as best we could, but this is an inevitability.”
Simon sat there in stunned silence, Emilia still upon his lap. Surely, this couldn’t possibly be happening. The very idea of Emilia marrying Lord Pendergast filled him with a sickness that Simon had never known before. He would take action, even if he didn’t know how.
“You know that I can fix this.”
“It’s too late,” Emilia assured him. “And there’s one more thing that I have decided. Simon, I wish us to make love before I am married. Just one night of tenderness before I spend the rest of my life with that man.”
Simon felt his heart sink. Surely, there was no way that he would do such a thing if Emilia was not to be his wife. It would be something that Simon could never live with.
“No, Emilia,” Simon said, shaking his head.
“Please, Simon,” Emilia said, bringing her face close to his for another kiss. Simon pulled back. He knew that if they kissed again, then that would be it. He would take her. Everything in his body wished for it. They were now in the danger zone, and Simon could not in his right conscience proceed.
“Emilia, don’t do this, I beg of you,” Simon said, bringing a hand to her cheek and seeing longing and need in her eyes. “You’re in a desperate state. There’s no sense in doing something that can harm you. For me to proceed in this business would be my taking advantage of the situation, and that is something that I could never possibly live with. I will not have Lord Pendergast take either you or Rose, rest assured.”
“But there’s no way to prevent it. Yours and Kingsley’s lives will be ruined.”
“I care not about that.”
“But you must!”
“You’re the only thing that I care for.”
“Then do this one thing for me, Simon. Set me free. My honour means nothing to Lord Pendergast. It’s all about power. Every inch of me longs for you, and I cannot marry unless I know that I have experienced your tenderness.”
Despite the complication, Simon was remarkably touched. Emilia trusted him, and that spoke louder than anything else. Were there no consequences in life, or had he not any respect for Emilia, he’d satisfy her request in a heartbeat. “I am at a loss for words.”
“Please, Simon. Take me. Allow me to have control over one aspect of my life at the very least.”
Simon took a breath and paused. Was Emilia the one in a desperate state, or was it he? He found that his mind could not think clearly with Emilia sitting on his lap so, begging him to make love to her. He could feel himself becoming hard, just at the very notion of it. What complicated this physiological stimulus even more was the fact that Emilia could no doubt sense it, sitting upon his lap. What was Simon to do?
Every ounce of his body was ready and willing, but his mind was still spinning. Emilia was being remarkably courageous and noble by making the decision that she had made, but Simon could not abide by it. He’d do everything in his power to ensure that the marriage never took place. Yet still, the more important challenge was dealing with the beautiful woman who, at that moment, was begging him to make love to her.
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