A Bride for the Betrayed Earl

by Bridget Barton

  However, on that morning, Kent Fitzgerald joined her. She could not think of him as a cousin, even though he was her second cousin. She felt him to be a stranger, a man in her home who ought not to have been there because she knew him so little. Furthermore, there was something about him that she did not like, and she thought it went beyond the fact that he was soon to turn them all out of the only home she had ever known.

  She was angry, of course, and resentful without question. But her dislike of him was based on something which seemed to make her more uncomfortable than angry. Emmeline could not help thinking that there was something in his nature, something that was currently hidden from view, which would make her flesh creep a little if she knew what it was.

  “Well, I am sure that my mother would not have seen you in lodgings, Mr Fitzgerald.”

  “Kent, please. Or, cousin, if you prefer it.” He smiled at her.

  “Well, Kent, do help yourself to breakfast things. The kitchen staff always lay on so much that you may eat as much as you wish.” Emmeline was caught between wanting to get away from him and knowing that she ought to be polite.

  As the eldest daughter, she was the hostess when her mother was not in their company, and she knew that she ought to represent her mother well. It would not do to make their guest uncomfortable, whatever her reservations about him, or even her resentments.

  “You are too kind, Emmeline,” he said, using her first name without invitation.

  Ordinarily, Emmeline might have objected, but she realized that she was in no great position to. And it was perhaps not the greatest imposition after all. The greatest imposition was yet to come, and if she was to feel so agitated by his use of her first name, then she could not begin to imagine how she would feel on the day that he took residence and she, her mother, and her sister, were made homeless.

  As Kent helped himself to bacon and kidneys, Emmeline regarded him coolly. In truth, he was not unpleasant to look at, quite the reverse. He was of medium height and build, and neither too fat nor too thin. His hair was brown, neither too dark nor too pale, and his eyes were of a similar colour. He was not handsome, and neither was he repellent. He seemed to be pleasing in that he did not meet any extremes, rather than being handsome in his own right.

  All in all, he was well turned out and well-groomed and had a pleasing face. But there was something very plain about him, and Emmeline thought the woman who married him would likely have a very dull time of it.

  “And how are you, Emmeline? I do not wish to pry, but I know, of course, that you have suffered a little these last weeks.” His inquiry seemed to be genuine enough, and yet, for reasons she could not explain, it angered her.

  “I am sure that I shall survive it all, I thank you, Kent.” She smiled politely although her face felt taut with the strain of it.

  “Yes, I am sure that you shall survive. You certainly seem like a very sensible young lady if I might say so. But of course, we all have feelings, do we not?” He smiled at her a little unsurely.

  “Indeed, we do, Kent, and I thank you for enquiring. It really is very decent of you.” She thawed a little, thinking that his inquiry might well have been genuine after all.

  “I should like us to be friends, Emmeline. And I should like you to know that you do have my sympathy in the matter, really you do.”

  As kind as his words were, Emmeline knew that she did not want sympathy. Sympathy felt like pity, and every time somebody looked at her with either of those emotions in their eyes, she felt diminished by it. She felt small and humiliated, so much so that she wished people would not care at all. She wished people would stop asking her if she was quite well; it was almost as if they expected her tears and were disappointed when they did not see any.

  Not that Emmeline had not cried tears aplenty because she had. But she had weathered the very worst of it publicly and without breaking down, and she had determined that having managed such a thing, she would not let herself down by grieving in front of anybody for the love she had lost. Any grieving she did, she would do alone.

  That evening at Ashton House had been almost the worst of her life, beaten only by the heartbreak when her father had died. Of course, her father’s passing caused only great sadness, whereas the betrayal meted out upon her by her love and her dearest friend, was not only sad but humiliating.

  And worse still, her much-adored younger sister had suffered almost as she had, but had the added disadvantage of her lesser age and experience in the world. Poor Rose had cried, even though she had hidden it as best she could.

  “Please, do not cry, Rose,” Emmeline had said to her as she quickly searched in her small drawstring purse for a handkerchief.

  “I am sorry, Sister, I cannot help it. I cannot bear this, I think I hate him, really I do.” Rose was torn between great embarrassment, fear, and the greatest upset for her sister.

  “You must not feel that way on my account, Rose. There will be plenty of time later for us to work our way through what it is we truly feel, each of us, but for now, we have this evening to deal with. We cannot let ourselves down, and we cannot let Mama down.”

  “But we need to go. I want to leave now,” Rose said, and Emmeline could see that her sister was working herself up into the most dreadful state.

  “Please, there are enough people looking over at us as it is. I cannot bear to be firm with you, Rose, but I must beg that you try to control yourself. I do not wish to give them further cause for gossip, for I think that I have given them cause enough, do you not?” Emmeline knew that her tone was stern, but she was trying to control her own emotions and could not have borne another moment of her younger sister’s breakdown.

  “Yes, of course. I shall turn away for a moment and dry my eyes if you will give me that handkerchief.” Rose spoke in a very much more adult tone, and Emmeline had felt suddenly proud of her.

  “You are so good, Rose. Really you are. And I am most terribly sorry for this. I would not have put you through this for the world, my dear, you must believe me.”

  “It is not your doing, Emmeline,” Rose said sadly, although she turned away gracefully to dab at her eyes before turning back and smiling as best she could. “It is Christopher and that evil little girl.”

  “Yes, my dearest friend has served me very ill indeed, has she not? But I do not think I can speak of it a moment longer. My dear Rose, I feel myself to be hanging on by a thread, and every time I look around me, I meet the eyes of yet another curious ghoul.”

  “They are all ghouls, and I despise them,” Rose said defiantly, the colour in her pale cheeks still high.

  “Let us talk of something else.” Emmeline’s throat felt tight and painful with raw emotion and the panic of having to remain dignified at all costs. “Tell me, what do you think of the musicians? I think them very talented.”

  “I think them very good,” Rose said although it was clear to Emmeline that her sister had not listened to the music at all.

  “Perhaps we ought to help ourselves to some food from the buffet, my dear,” Emmeline went on.

  “I do not think I could eat a thing. I do not think I could swallow.” Rose turned frightened eyes on her.

  “We need not eat any of it. Perhaps we just need the distraction of movement. If we go to the buffet tables, we shall be acting in a normal manner. It might stop people staring so, for they would be bored. After all, they are all just waiting for me to cry or to run, are they not?”

  “They are, and they should feel eternal shame for their behaviour, really they should.”

  “But I think they will not.” Emmeline tried to smile at her. “They are enjoying themselves too much for that.”

  “You seem so very calm, Emmeline, but I cannot believe that is how you feel.”

  “In truth, Rose, I want nothing more than to turn and run from this room. I want to flee to our carriage and throw myself down on the seat and weep for all the awful things which have happened this evening. Tell me, do you see Christopher anywhere?�
�� Although she could not bear to look around herself, Emmeline wanted to know if he was concerned at all. She wanted to know that he at least cared enough to regard her and wonder how she would make it through the rest of the evening.

  “He still stands with his back to us, as does Clara. They are side-by-side, and they are talking with his parents and a few well-wishers. What a coward,” Rose hissed angrily.

  “Indeed, he is a coward. That he could not tell me before, could not tell me to my face, makes him a coward, does it not? Really, that he found it easier to have his father announce the thing in public, really …” Emmeline could not speak any more for fear that she would cry.

  “Because he knew you could not cause a scene of any kind. If he and Clara had told you themselves, they would have had to face the consequences of your words and your anguish. They would have had to face their own shame for what they have done, and yet now, now that they have relied upon Christopher’s father to do the whole thing, they have escaped unharmed.”

  “Perhaps not entirely. After all, there was more than one person here tonight shocked by what they heard.” Emmeline tried to be reasonable.

  “Shocked, yes, but they will not shun them. They have all enjoyed themselves this evening and will be easily folded afterward into thinking that there was nothing between the two of you anymore. They will have all their news from Christopher since none of them would dare come to speak to you themselves.”

  “Oh dear, I think the whole awful thing is beginning to sink in. I mean really sink in. I feel quite hot and nauseous all of a sudden,” Emmeline said and looked at her sister with a pale face.

  “Then we must get some food, as you first suggested.

  “I do not think I could eat. In truth, I am sorry that I suggested it in the first place.”

  “Excuse me, ladies, but would you care to accompany me to the buffet tables? I am here alone this evening and should be very glad of the company.” Out of nowhere, the Earl of Addison seemed to appear.

  For a moment, Emmeline could hardly speak. She was barely acquainted with the man and could only think that they had likely had but two minutes’ conversation together in all their lives. Why it was that he should have come to their aid, she could not imagine.

  “Yes, indeed, my sister and I were just thinking to make our way to get some food. Please, do join us.” Emmeline had recovered herself quickly and was quietly grateful for this man’s unexplained presence.

  As he walked with them to the buffet tables, he talked happily of the musicians and the dancing and, curiously, the sheer number of chandeliers. At times, it almost made Emmeline laugh and forget her own troubles. In a bid to remain with her but say nothing of her plight, the Earl of Addison was clutching at conversational straws, and he managed to do so, in the end, for more than two hours.

  As the evening began to draw to a close, Emmeline wondered how long she could last. She still wanted the comfort and privacy of their carriage so that she could finally allow the shock of it all to come out.

  “Lord Addison, it was very kind of you to spend this evening with my sister and me.”

  “Not at all, it has been a pleasure. The both of you have saved me from an evening spent alone eating too much food and standing too close to the musicians.” He smiled warmly.

  “Would you think me terribly dull if I decided to be one of the early leavers?”

  “Not dull at all. I think the evening is coming to an end anyway, do you not?”

  “Yes, I think it is.”

  “Well, I see that Mr and Mrs Lennox are hovering by the door, so perhaps you would allow me to escort you to your carriage. You can stop on the way to say good evening.” He smiled, and Emmeline understood perfectly that he was still helping.

  He was directing her as best he could, reminding her that she still needed to thank her hosts for a wonderful evening before she left. And she was grateful for it, for he had clearly seen how hard she had fought to maintain her dignity throughout the entire event, and he was obviously keen that she should continue to maintain that dignity right up until the end. She really would have to find a way of thanking him one day, she knew that.

  “Yes, I should be most grateful,” Emmeline said with enthusiasm. “And I am most grateful,” she said in a quiet tone designed to let him know that she was very aware of the unnamed support he had given her and her sister that night.

  Pleased that there was no sign of Christopher or Clara by the door, Emmeline and Rose said polite and hasty farewells to Mr and Mrs Lennox, both of whom looked distinctly uncomfortable. In truth, they looked very much more uncomfortable than Emmeline and her sister, and Emmeline thought it served them right.

  True to his word, the Earl of Addison had walked them all the way to their carriage and bowed deeply before turning to leave them in the care of their driver.

  The moment they were in the carriage and she felt the draw as it pulled away from Ashton House, Emmeline slid sideways in her seat and wept bitterly.

  “My dear Emmeline, you look terribly pale. Are you quite well?” Kent Fitzgerald was out of his chair and fussing about her, his breakfast barely touched.

  When he slid an arm across her shoulders, Emmeline hurriedly pulled herself together. There was something about his touch, however innocently it might have been meant, which made her shiver uncomfortably. She had not realized how long she had been lost in thought.

  “I am perfectly alright, Kent. Just a little contemplative that is all. I beg you would excuse me.” She smiled and rose from her chair before hastening out of the room.

  Chapter 7

  It had been a great relief to Emmeline and her family when Kent Fitzgerald had completed his business and returned to the Midlands.

  “Really, I thought he would stay forever,” Rose complained humorously.

  “I suppose, in the end, he will stay forever,” Constance Fitzgerald said sadly.

  As the three women sat in the drawing room, each trying to busy themselves with some hobby or other, Emmeline could not help thinking that they seemed to take it in turns to dwell in melancholia. It would seem that it was to be her mother’s turn, finally.

  “Oh, Mama, I really am so very sorry,” Emmeline said sadly.

  “But my dear girl, it is not your fault. It is just the way of things, but I cannot help feeling so adrift today. I think it is time now for us to search for some lodgings that we can afford.”

  “I think we must,” Emmeline said and felt thoroughly dejected.

  She knew that the moment they took the sort of impoverished lodgings that their small income would afford them, they would cease to be a part of the society they had always known. They would no longer be invited to the sort of events that would eventually lead to Emmeline and her younger sister finding suitable partners.

  “I am just afraid of what it means for us; all of us. As soon as we make that move, Mama, we have set the seal upon our fate.” Emmeline sighed. “And I realize that I have done much to cause this, but there is nothing else that I can do.”

  “You have not caused it, my dear girl. Christopher Lennox treated you very ill indeed, and there was not a thing that you could have done about it. I really cannot have you take the burden of everything upon your shoulders. I could very easily blame myself for not being able to produce a son, but that would get us nowhere.”

  “Perhaps we could wait just a little longer, Mama. After all, there are almost five months until we must be out of here,” Rose said, trying to be helpful.

  “Yes, and a lot can happen in five months, can it not?” Constance Fitzgerald had clearly decided to take an optimistic view of things suddenly. “And if the worst comes to the worst, I am sure that we can find lodgings in a matter of weeks at the end of the period of grace.”

  “I realize that the only way out of this is for me to marry, Mama, but I cannot imagine young men queueing to ask me now, especially after the way I was so humiliated at Ashton House. I cannot help thinking that I am a laughingstock through
out the county, and what man would want to marry me anyway?” Try as she might, Emmeline could not hold back the first of her tears.

  “You are nothing of the kind, Emmeline. You are beautiful and intelligent, and you are my daughter, and I will not hear you say such things about yourself. Oh, if I were a man, I would march all the way to Ashton Hall and call out that dreadful young Christopher,” Constance’s sudden fury made her red in the face.

  “And I would follow you, Mama, and call out that dreadful Clara Lovett. What a devil she is, especially when she knew of our circumstances. I would hope that life brings her everything she deserves, and I cannot apologize for despising her,” Rose said in defence of her sister.

  “Rose, you must not have your young soul twisted by all of this. Clara did do me a great wrong, and I shall never forgive her for it. But it is her betrayal of me and our friendship which hurts me the most. All these years I have confided in her, I had never once thought that she would hurt me as she has done. And I can hardly think how long this friendship between Clara and Christopher has gone on. It hurts me to think it, but I can only imagine that the two of them took advantage of my three-month period of mourning after father died. I expect that they saw a good deal of each other then.” Emmeline sighed. “But Rose, you must not turn yourself inside out with hatred because I would not wish it. I thank you for your loyalty, but I would much prefer it that you concentrate on having faith in your own future, my dear. You are too young to have to turn your thoughts to such dreadful things, and I would give anything for you to be able to live without the anxiety that my failed engagement has caused.”

  Before any of them could say another word, there came a hurried knock on the drawing room door, and the housekeeper quickly entered.

  “Begging your pardon, Miss Fitzgerald, but there is a gentleman to see you,” the housekeeper said to Emmeline and smiled, her doughy, pleasant face pink with excitement.