The Earl of Arundel (Earls of England Book 1)

by Angela Johnson

  “Now?”

  He shook his head as he laughed. “No, Miss Parker, at the first dance of the London season.”

  Anne blushed, which enhanced her pale skin and dark brown hair. “I would be delighted to save a dance for you.”

  “Then we have to meet at the same ball to make this happen. Tell me, Miss Parker, where does your family reside during the season?”

  “Piccadilly. Hertford House.”

  He nodded. “Should we agree to find each other at the first ball held at Almack’s Assembly Hall?”

  “I look forward to it,” she said, looking up at him.

  His height was a nuisance. He would’ve wanted her to be able to look into his eyes without craning her neck. “You will save me just one dance?”

  “Are you requesting more than one?”

  “What about two dances?” He was making a fool of himself, and yet he didn’t care.

  “I would be honored.” Her voice took on a dreamy tone.

  He turned to her and stopped walking. “I would ask for three dances, but you know society won’t approve.”

  “I would give you three dances, my lord.”

  Edward let her words sink in. Three dances in a night was equal to posting the banns. Was she telling him she also had feelings for him? Was it possible to fall in love in a day? He closed the gap between them.

  “May I kiss you?” I can’t believe I said those words, he thought after he asked the question. He’d been looking at her deep blue eyes and had the urge to kiss her. Is she shocked? Is she appalled? The questions rang through his mind as he waited to hear her answer. Is she offended? Will she slap me? I deserve to be slapped. An eternity passed, although it was only seconds after he asked the question when she responded.

  “Yes.”

  Nineteen

  Listening to Anne on the piano put a longing into Phillip. It was almost as though he longed to sit at the bench and play. He imagined the notes and knew he could play. This was the first time since being at Springhill Abby he’d had the realization of a musical talent.

  Henry, Richard, Edward, and Lord Anthony were in a serious game of cards. Lady Amelia worked on her embroidery. Phillip sat on the sofa next to his father, both reading books, both tense and ignoring each other, but he continued to sneak looks in Emma’s direction as she sketched. The night seemed as though it would pass in silence.

  Anne finished playing a song when Edward spoke up. “Phillip, I haven’t heard you play since you were at Wentworth Hall.”

  Phillip peered over the top of the book. He didn’t hide his annoyance with Edward. Although Doctor Price told them to help restore his memory, Phillip didn’t have a need to perform for everyone. He almost pointed out he hadn’t been at Wentworth Hall for quite some time but instead replied, “Miss Parker is a far superior musician than I.” He looked over at Emma to see if she realized he used her same excuse for not playing.

  “You do remember how to play?” Edward asked as he placed a card on the table and exchanged it for another one.

  “Perhaps,” he responded, going back to the book.

  “I do agree with you regarding Miss Parker’s talent. She is much better than you. If I remember right, you stumble across the keys as though you don’t know how to carry a melody.” Looking as though he didn’t care if his brother favored them with a song, Edward continued, “Father, would you agree?”

  “I’m enjoying a book, Edward. I don’t need you to manipulate me into performing,” Phillip remarked, cutting over any comment their father would make.

  “And I’m enjoying cards. After thinking on it, I’d prefer you don’t play. It could prove to be distracting.”

  Phillip shook his head and went back to reading the book.

  Joining the conversation Anne supplied, “Lord Arundel, if you would like I have a selection of sheet music you could use.”

  Edward commented, “I believe he doesn’t remember how to read music anymore. Not due to the amnesia. He just doesn’t play very well. I haven’t heard Mozart or Chopin since we were seven or eight. He’s correct; he isn’t very good at the instrument.”

  “Then what do you play?” Anne asked, ignoring Edward’s flippant remark.

  Phillip looked around the room. Every person except Ashby was focused on him. He glared at Edward, frustrated with the conversation. He turned to Anne and softened his face. “I—”

  His response was interrupted by Edward. “You don’t want to hear what he plays. It’s terrible music of his composition.”

  “You’re a composer?” Anne asked in surprise. “Have you written anything down?”

  Phillip tried to answer her question but again was cut off. He lifted his hand motioning to Edward.

  “He doesn’t compose well enough for anyone to want to duplicate the sound.”

  While trying not to laugh at Edward, Anne asked, “Will you please favor us with a song?”

  Edward jumped out of the chair and pulled Phillip to his feet. “You can’t turn down a request from a lady. I’ll help you to the piano.” In a loud whisper so everyone could hear he asked, “Do you need me to press the pedals as you play?” Edward dragged Phillip to the piano. “You won’t get your cane back until you play for us.”

  “Do you have a specific request?”

  “Play and I will tell you if it fulfills my desire.”

  Phillip took the music sheets from Anne and looked through them. Edward grabbed the music. “You have always told me when you sit at a piano the notes fill your mind. So, let’s see what comes.”

  “Go away!” Phillip said with a shake of his head.

  He sat staring at the piano keys. Emotions assaulted him as he looked at the ivory and black keys. Phillip let out a sigh of relief when he saw the music in his mind. Fingers in place, he experienced the sensation of having the ivory keys as an extension of his body. He played the first chords he could imagine. The music flowed through him down to the piano. For the first time in a long time, he knew who he was. His memories might not be restored, but he knew music was his life. It was a liberating moment, and the joy came out through the piano and made him calm. As he played, he thought of Emma and knew this song was for her.

  When he finished playing, he looked up to see the one person he wanted to please. Emma wiped tears away. Pleased with her response, he turned to the rest of the room and reached his hand out for Edward to bring the cane to him.

  “You should play for Lady Olivia when we arrive at Lancaster House tomorrow,” Ashby said. He spoke in the most normal tone as though Lady Olivia were a regular part of Phillip’s life.

  “Who is Lady Olivia?” Phillip asked as he scooted to the edge of the bench and waited for his cane.

  The cards Edward held flew out of his hands with the question in the air. Ashby raised his eyebrows.

  “She’s your intended, Arundel.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said looking to Ashby, “did I hear you correctly?”

  Edward stood up and walked toward him. “The betrothal happened right before you went missing. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

  Phillip shook his head in confusion. “I realize there is a lot I am still missing. But please help me with this one by giving it to me straight.”

  “Arundel,” his father said in a calming voice. “We can discuss this further when we arrive in London.”

  “Do I even know this woman?” he asked as he looked between his father and brother. He wasn’t going to let the conversation stall until London.

  Edward laughed. “Yes, but you do not enjoy her company. Oh, and last time you spoke to her you made her so angry she stomped on your foot and kicked you in the shins.”

  “Amusing,” Phillip responded.

  “I seem to remember you gave the same response when we all laughed about it.”

  “Who laughed about
it?” He didn’t like the idea of being laughed at.

  “Us . . . me and our siblings. You walked Olivia home from church the first week the banns were read—”

  “The banns have been read?” Phillip’s voice rose as his temper flared. He hit the keys on the piano, causing a jumble of noise.

  “One week of banns.” Edward turned to his father. “This isn’t going well. I don’t think we should have told him yet.”

  “Shouldn’t have told me?” Phillip panicked. “When would be a good time to give me this information?” He wanted to be with Emma, and now wanted to rip his heart out.

  “Arundel, this is something we can speak about once we get to Lancaster House,” Ashby stood to leave the room.

  “Hand me my cane,” Phillip said to Edward.

  Edward walked forward in shock, grabbed the cane, and moved over to the piano. “It’s not wise to argue right now. Let Father calm down.”

  “Calm down?” Phillip yelled. “Don’t I have a right to know?”

  The Duke of Ashby took a deep breath before turning back to his sons. “Arundel, you will be compensated well for the marriage. She has a dowry of seventy thousand pounds, and she is required to give you an heir and a spare.”

  Phillip grabbed the cane from Edward as he said, “Oh . . . well . . . let me rejoice in my good fortune. And I have no doubt I will inherit more than seventy thousand pounds from you one day. I don’t need the dowry.”

  Smirking, Edward remarked, “She’s at least pleasant to look at, when she isn’t scowling at you.”

  “Shut up, Edward!”

  “Arundel!” Ashby yelled, losing his temper. “There’s no more to discuss. You will marry Lady Olivia. The banns are set to be read this Sunday in London. You have four weeks to consign yourself to the marriage. It’s your duty.”

  “Duty?” Phillip was distraught. He didn’t dare look at Emma. He had so many plans, and now they were no longer a possibility. “Duty? You must be jesting.”

  “No, I’m not,” his father yelled. “Your social standing doesn’t allow for a love match. You will do your duty, and I want no further argument.”

  “Is the conversation over?” Phillip asked. “Wait,” he said with a little bit of hope. “The title has been transferred to you. You have to marry Olivia now.”

  Edward gave a nervous laugh and used his hand to cover his heart. “I would do anything for you, Phillip, anything. But I have to draw a line at Olivia—”

  “No! It doesn’t change the engagement.” Ashby sighed. He was tired. “You are the one engaged, not the title. And Edward doesn’t have the title. Since we didn’t have a body, it wasn’t made official.”

  Richard cleared his throat as he left the gaming table. “I know it isn’t my place to interject—”

  “Then stay silent!” Ashby said, not sparing Richard a glance.

  “Yet, I must. Arranged marriages are frowned upon in the church. Does the Vicar of your parish know this is a forced marriage?”

  “This isn’t an arranged marriage,” Ashby disputed.

  “It sounds like one to me,” Phillip argued.

  “I agree,” Richard said. He stared Ashby down.

  “You accepted the arrangement, Arundel. You cannot back out of it now.”

  Phillip looked over to Edward to see if there was any truth to the statement. Edward slowly shook his head in the negative.

  “I did not!” Phillip contended.

  Ashby sighed. “You were not happy about the engagement but consigned yourself to the union.”

  “Well, I’m not consigned to it now.” Phillip stood in shock as his father left the room. He decided to ignore Edward’s advice. He followed Ashby out of the room. He had to find a way out of the engagement.

  “I don’t want to marry Olivia.” He heard the hysteria in his voice and also the derisive tone in which he said her name. Her name sounded disgusting on his lips.

  “Norland and I made a bet. If I don’t go through with my end of the deal, I lose my lands, wealth, and titles. I will lose everything except Wentworth Hall. If he doesn’t go through with it, he will lose the same.”

  “Why did you enter into this bet? Aren’t you putting a lot at stake?”

  “It’s a gamble,” Ashby said. “Whoever pulls out first loses.”

  “Father.” Phillip tried to speak with the most calming voice he could muster. “I love Emma. The thought of marrying someone else makes me ill.”

  “You’d prefer to lose our way of life? You want me to give everything except Wentworth Hall to Norland?”

  “Certainly not! But I want to make my own choice in marriage.” Every minute his father refused to relent he experienced a new level of panic, as though no matter what he did, he was going to lose.

  “Go to bed, Arundel.”

  “No. Not until you acknowledge this engagement is a farce and release me from it. I have already asked Lord Anthony for permission to marry Emma.”

  “Retire for the evening. I won’t say it again.” Ashby’s hand twitched. Phillip moved backward, but the furious need to get out of this engagement took over.

  “I won’t marry her.”

  Phillip watched as Ashby lost the temper he tried to control. His father’s hand came up and collided with Phillip’s face. Phillip turned back to him. He remembered the abuse all too well.

  He knew it was dangerous, but he argued again. “I won’t marry her.”

  Ashby’s hand again came up and hit him in the same spot. Phillip didn’t move backward. He stood firm and let his father hit him a third time. As Ashby’s hand came up for a fourth time, Edward intervened and grabbed his father’s arm.

  Phillip glared at Ashby. He didn’t look at Edward. He didn’t thank his brother for the interference. He wasn’t sure the strategy of letting his father hit him over and over would do any good, but it was better than cowering before him.

  “What do I have to do to get out of the engagement?” Phillip asked, gaining control of his emotions.

  “You can’t get out of it.” His father’s voice was tight as though he was trying to stay calm, but failing at the same time. “Instead of fighting it, accept it.”

  “I’ll give up my place as your heir.”

  “You’ve already tried this, many times, and I’ve told you it isn’t possible.” Ashby turned from him. “Go to bed. We will leave tomorrow morning.”

  “Father,” Edward said in surprise, “the doctor said it could be too dangerous for Phillip to leave right now.”

  “I don’t agree. And it is better we leave now, before Phillip makes Lord Anthony’s daughter a promise he can’t keep.”

  Disgusted with his father, Phillip turned to go inside but stopped. He didn’t feel like he could enter the house again knowing he couldn’t be with Emma. Phillip sat on the stairs leading up to the entrance of the house. He put his head in his hands. He’d lived his entire life in those few minutes.

  Twenty

  Crushed was one of the words Emma used to describe her emotions. Internal bleeding was another way to describe her pain. She tried to breathe normally as she listened to the argument between Phillip and his father. She didn’t want to look around the room because she didn’t want to see the pity on anyone’s face.

  She was thankful she had been sitting by the door and could make a silent exit when Ashby stated Phillip had agreed to the marriage. She retreated to her room, which overlooked the front of the house. She could hear the argument between Phillip and Ashby. When she heard Ashby hit Phillip, she jumped and ran to the window and watched as he stood and allowed his father to beat him.

  Emma didn’t hold the tears back. She couldn’t imagine life without Phillip. She walked to her bed and fell onto it, letting her tears flow. Her door opened and she thought about telling whoever it was to go away, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop cry
ing.

  The pins in her hair were removed, and the soothing motion of brush bristles flowed through her hair.

  “You’re going to get a headache,” Anne said.

  “My heart is broken.”

  “Go ahead and cry.”

  “I never want to see him again.” She was interrupted in her thoughts as voices rose in the yard. Emma stopped sobbing and pointed to the window. Anne rushed over and opened it for her.

  “You could have given him the news of the betrothal at another time,” Lord Edward said to his father.

  “Edward, I’m your father. You won’t disrespect me,” Ashby stated, anger causing his voice to rise.

  “I mean you no disrespect,” Edward said to his father, “but it is obvious Phillip isn’t . . . himself. The amnesia is worse than we were led to believe, and he is falling in love with Miss Emma.”

  “It’s not love. He has been ill, and she assisted him during this time. Also, she isn’t the type of woman he tends to notice. A few days away from here, and he will forget about her.”

  “I disagree with you,” Edward argued. “She is his match in every way. But you would prefer he pay attention to fair hair and less brains.”

  “I still think a few days away from here and he will forget about Miss Emma Parker,” Ashby insisted.

  They were silent for a time before Edward finished the conversation. “We need to take him home. He’s lost here.”

  Ashby grunted, and they either fell silent or went into the house. All Emma knew was she could no longer hear their conversation below her window. She motioned for Anne to close the window, and lay back on her bed. She didn’t let anymore tears fall. She stared at the wall as she repeated, “I never want to see him again.”

  The following morning when Phillip left, Emma stayed in the house. She walked in the hallway to a window looking over the yard where the carriage sat waiting for its passengers. She watched as Phillip hugged her mother, shook her father’s hand, and both of her brother’s hands. He kissed Anne’s hand and then looked to the door. He was looking for her. But the betrayal and anger seething within her stopped her from running out to say farewell. She wouldn’t wish him a safe journey. She wouldn’t ever look at him again.