Emma had not realized until now that Aaron could have such an overbearing manner. Who did he think he was? How dare he tell her what to do and who to see? The nerve of the man!
She tilted her chin defiantly. “An excellent notion. I shall take your advice and do as you suggest. I will also allow you to escort me.”
“Really?” Aaron’s voice was laden with sarcasm.
Her father intervened. “It’s not necessary for you to pander to Emma’s fickle demands, sir. One moment she refuses to dance with Lord Stratton, and the next thing she is telling me is that his lordship has a claim to no less than three dances. But you yourself have only just arrived. I beseech you to first make yourself comfortable and―”
“It will be no trouble to escort your daughter to his lordship. I’m more than happy to be of service to her…again.”
Without ceremony, Aaron took hold of her arm in a firm grip. With dogged determination, he steered her across the hall toward Lord Stratton, and upon reaching his lordship, Emma watched as the two men exchanged bows.
“What the devil are you doing in Bath, Trent? I thought you to be laid up in some confounded infirmary recovering from the beating Bonaparte gave you. It’s good to see you’re from your sickbed, but I hadn’t expected it.”
“My ability to survive appears to have disappointed most of my acquaintances, including my cousin. And you, Stratton? It’s not like you to be away from London. What brings you to Bath?”
Having released Emma’s arm, Aaron brushed a non-existent fleck of dust from his sleeve.
“The answer’s quite simple. The delightful, young lady beside you is my reason for being in Bath. I’ve made Miss Brentry an offer which she is considering.”
“An offer? An offer of what?” Aaron asked. “I had not realized Miss Brentry was interested in the business of manufacturing chinaware, for I presume it is a business offer we are speaking of?”
Aaron was tense. Emma could hear it in his voice, and she saw it in the way he held his body. Tonight he was on edge, and she wondered why.
“You misunderstand.” Lord Stratton gave a gloating smile. “I was referring to an offer of marriage. You see, when we merge, I mean when we marry, our family businesses will become as one. Miss Brentry’s father is keen for the union.”
The sound of a musical ensemble could be heard coming from the saloon. Violin strings were tweaked and the pianoforte played as preparations for the next dance were made.
Emma glanced hurriedly down at her dance card. “Lord Stratton, I happen to have this dance free. As the quadrille is about to begin, shall we join the others?”
Eager to comply, Lord Stratton offered his arm for Emma to take.
Emma saw a flash of irritation appear in Aaron’s eyes. And then, with only the briefest of nods, she was whisked away toward the candlelit saloon, leaving Aaron looking annoyed and frustrated.
Chapter 9
Aaron was enraged. In fact, he was furious. Much to his annoyance, and quite illogically, he felt he’d been pipped at the post. Lord Stratton had walked away with the prize, and there was nothing he could do about it.
When he’d arrived at the door of Mr. Brentry’s residence that evening, he thought he’d overcome his moral boundaries of right and wrong and was, at last, prepared to approach Emma with an offer of marriage. The only problem was that deep in his heart, he believed the marriage, which was so right for Windhurst Hall, was also so wrong for Emma.
Aaron knew marriage to Emma would come at a price. If they married, her dowry could be used to pay off his cousin’s debt and win back Windhurst Hall, but it would also cost him his freedom. With her settlement in the bank, he could return his home to what it once was: a comfortable gentleman’s residence. But in the process, he would become leg-shackled and tied for the rest of his life to someone he had only just met. Someone he had no true understanding of, even though there was an intense attraction of sorts. And there would be no escape from that commitment or from that binding union.
Edward Templeton’s advice was ringing in his ears. “You’ll have to take a chance like the rest of us.”
Aaron knew it was sound guidance, but he wasn’t sure he could make the ultimate sacrifice of losing his independence on the flimsiest of chances that he and Emma might be happy together.
When they first met, he’d admired her for her resourcefulness and her ability to overcome her difficulties, but he’d not really gotten to know her. There had been no chance and no time. There had been so much more to discover about Emma but no opportunity in which to do so.
When he’d left her at the door of her house a week ago, he thought they had said goodbye for good, but with unfinished business between them, he hoped tonight, that business could be resolved.
He’d intended to find the right moment to put his plan forward, but that seemed pointless now that Lord Stratton was here.
Throughout the week, Aaron had diligently researched the Brentrys. He had been fact-finding, and to his surprise, he discovered that while Mr. Winston Brentry was known to be of a good and generous disposition, the man had also gained a reputation as that of a demanding taskmaster. Quick-witted, there wasn’t much that got past Mr. Brentry, and that was one of the reasons his considerable fortune had been amassed so successfully. Mr. Brentry’s wealth was reputed to be quite substantial, and his residence was said to be reasonably grand for a common glass merchant. When Aaron looked about, he thought this assessment of his host to be all too true.
The grand hallway in which he was standing screamed money, although not necessarily taste. It was a good indication Mr. Brentry certainly had the means with which to indulge his opulent preferences, but not necessarily the finesse. The words unrestrained and repugnant came to mind.
On the other hand, when delving further into the background of Miss Emma Brentry, research revealed there was very little known about her. She did not parade herself in society, and it was said she was happy to stand in the shadows and allow her father to shine.
But tonight, with Lord Stratton present at the rout, matters had become somewhat complex. If his lordship was indeed in earnest and wished to marry Emma…that meant trouble. It was a threat to Aaron’s plan.
Lord Stratton had land. He had wealth. And he was also in good health. By comparison, Aaron had only his disfigured, imperfect body and little else to offer Emma. He realized that should he make an offer of marriage, he would be doing her no great favor.
The air in the saloon was stiflingly hot and humid from the heated bodies. Aaron’s mouth felt dry, and deciding something was needed to quench his thirst, he went in search of refreshments.
Aaron strategically positioned himself beside the drinks table in a corner of the room where the flickering light from the chandeliers didn’t reach. From a distance, he could observe Emma and Lord Stratton quite easily as they joined a line of dancers for the quadrille. For now, he was content to stand and watch.
“They make a remarkably handsome couple, do you not think so?” asked a woman. “In that blue velvet tailcoat and with those white silk breeches, Lord Stratton is looking most princely this evening. Elegant, quite elegant. Although I must say, my dear Emma is a trifle pale. Do you think something is ailing her?”
The woman, dressed in a green silk gown heavily decorated with beaded edging, stood beside him. She was tall and lanky, and with a lace cap covering her fair curls and a fringed shawl draped casually around her shoulders, she looked matronly. The fan she held flipped back and forth vigorously as she tried cooling herself, but it was to no avail. The fan’s breeze did nothing to help the color of her complexion, and she remained quite red in the face.
“I have no notion, madam. I am not well enough acquainted with Miss Brentry to offer an opinion. But I must agree, they do make a striking couple.” And they did.
Lord Stratton and Emma were youthful, vibrant, and fine-looking, and they gave off an energy that Aaron felt he lacked. War and life had made him jaded, and he envied their vi
tality.
“Oh,” said the woman. “I was given to believe you have recently become very well acquainted with Emma. In fact…extremely well. You are Mr. Aaron Trent, are you not?”
Aaron was startled. He looked closely at the woman speaking, but he couldn’t place her. How the devil did she know about what he and Emma had been up to recently? Had someone babbled? How had word got out that he and Emma had spent a night together, alone, at the inn?
“I am indeed Mr. Aaron Trent, madam,” he reluctantly answered the woman’s question. “And I have the honor of addressing…”
“Lady Hester Bridgeworth. A friend of the family.”
It wasn’t the usual way an introduction was made, but if Lady Hester was happy with it, then so too was he.
Aaron extended a leg and bowed. “Your Ladyship.”
“Emma was telling me that you have become her savior. She explained that you rescued her from a perilous night on the Bath Road not too long ago.”
“I fear Miss Brentry exaggerates, Your Ladyship.” Aaron’s gaze was irresistibly drawn to Emma as she danced. “I’m certain Emma…I mean, Miss Brentry, could have coped on her own. I find her to be a most resilient woman, and she seems to know what she wants and how to get it.”
He was thinking of how Emma had pursued him to the barn and achieved her goal―a night in his arms.
“True,” Lady Hester said with a smile. “I’ve never known Emma not to get her own way. I don’t know if that’s because her father indulges her or simply because she’s an outstanding manipulator and has an excellent sense of determination.”
Aaron smiled. “Bewitching, is she not? And she moves with such grace.”
He hadn’t meant to say those words, but they were how he felt. She held him spellbound. As she cavorted around the room, his eyes never left her. The only trouble was, he had to watch her frolic with Lord Stratton, and it didn’t sit well.
“By the look on your face, you certainly seem to think her enchanting,” Lady Hester said with a knowing smile upon her lips.
As Aaron observed the couple, he disliked the possessive way Lord Stratton touched Emma whenever the chance arose. Or the way in which his lordship’s hand moved caressingly along her arm and down to her waist as they twirled in the dance. He wanted to pull Emma from Lord Stratton’s arms with such violence that he was shocked by his feelings of possessiveness. Never before had he felt so jealous about someone.
“If you will excuse me, Lady Hester. I believe I need some air.”
Aaron, unable to watch the couple any longer, gave a low bow in her ladyship’s direction and made his way around the edge of the room until he came to the open French doors. The doors led onto a stone-paved terrace, and leaving the noise behind, he stepped out into the cool of the night.
It was dark, but with the candlelight streaming from the house and a full moon high in the sky, he was able to make his way without too much trouble. Wandering down into the garden and along a pathway, he came to an arbor cut into a privet hedge. Seeing a bench, he sat to ease the ache in his leg. He was secluded. Out of sight of the main house and with only the muted sound of music and the distant chatter of voices, he felt at peace.
Having sat contentedly without disturbance for some time, he became aware he was no longer alone. He couldn’t see who it was, but he could hear people talking in hushed whispers as they approached.
“I insist we marry,” said a man’s voice. “Think of what we’ll gain. We will grow from strength to strength and our fortunes will amass and―”
“You mean your fortune will amass. All you want is a business deal. You do not love me, and neither do you appear to have any semblance of affection for me.”
The voices belonged to Emma and Lord Stratton, and it seemed Lord Stratton was pressing his suit in earnest.
“My dear, in this day and age, one has to be realistic. No one ever marries for love.”
“But I cannot marry without…”
“What?” Stratton asked angrily. “What can’t you marry without? Love? Passion? Respect? Then if you can’t marry without any of those emotions, I predict you’ll remain unwed. You’ll be a spinster and alone. What will your father say to your unmarried state? Will he be pleased?”
“The decision is mine and has nothing to do with Papa.”
“I’ve been told differently,” scoffed Lord Stratton. “When I was in London, gossip was rife, and I heard your father was desperate to get you off his hands. If I’m truthful, that’s the reason I’m here now. I’m determined you shall be mine. Emma, let me prove we can be…”
There was silence followed by the sounds of a scuffle and labored breathing.
“No, stop,” Emma gasped. “Please, stop! You’re hurting me.”
“It’s futile to resist,” Lord Stratton said, ignoring her objections. “The time has come for me to show you exactly what you can expect once we’re married. And I must have you, even if it’s only for one night. Tonight, you shall be mine, and then, when, if, we marry—”
“Let me go!” she protested.
But Emma’s remonstrations were in vain. It was clear that Lord Stratton was ignoring her objections.
Aaron could no longer bear the thought that Emma was being man-handled against her will, and unable to listen to her futile struggles and pleas, he stood and left the seclusion of the arbor.
He rounded the hedge to confront them and saw them locked in an entangled embrace. Lord Stratton’s arm was linked firmly around Emma’s waist, and he was tugging at her skirt, trying to lift them. Emma was fighting to break free.
“Unhand her, sir.”
“Damn it. Who’s there?” asked Lord Stratton in a harsh, frustrated tone. “Come out of the shadows and show yourself, or go away and leave us be.”
Aaron stepped forward. As he did so, he saw a look of relief on Emma’s face and a look of scorn etched across Lord Stratton’s.
“I said unhand her. Or else…”
This wasn’t about Lord Stratton’s ungentlemanly behavior. That could be dealt with easily by a blow to the chin. This was about what Emma wanted. He’d heard desperation in her voice, and if that was the case, he knew he couldn’t walk away and leave her to fend for herself.
Having inadvertently listened to their conversation, Aaron noted there was no tenderness involved. Lord Stratton was cold, harsh, and calculating in his dealings.
Emma was indeed correct. Lord Stratton was only interested in one thing―her dowry, and what it could bring to his chinaware business.
“Ye gad!” said Lord Stratton. “If it isn’t Trent. You’re quick to temper, sir. What concern is it of yours what I do with Miss Brentry?”
Lord Stratton was right. It was no concern of Aaron’s what Stratton and Emma did together. And perhaps Aaron had indeed been too presumptuous. He knew he was quick to temper. It was a fault he thought he had learned to curb during the war, for his soldiers’ sake, but it seemed not. Anger had reared its ugly head again.
With careful precision, Aaron drew the handle of his walking cane a few inches away from its sheath, and then, with equal exactness, returned it to the safety of its cover. There had been just enough of the razor-sharp blade glinting visibly in the moonlight to act as a warning. Lord Stratton got the message—Aaron was prepared to do battle.
“Go to your room, Emma. We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” Lord Stratton said. “Say nothing to your father, and in the morning, I shall officially ask for your hand.”
“That will not be happening,” Aaron said through gritted teeth.
“And why is that?” asked Lord Stratton.
“Miss Brentry and I have already spoken of marriage. An announcement will be made shortly.”
Aaron didn’t enlighten Stratton that it was only a week ago that Emma had made a proposal of sorts. She had offered her dowry in exchange for marriage, and for the sake of Windhurst Hall, Aaron was now prepared to accept that deal.
“Impossible. Miss Brentry has made no mention of this
to me.” Lord Stratton scowled. “Emma, is this true? Are you indeed to marry Trent?”
Emma moved to where Aaron was standing, and he felt her reach for his hand.
“We have yet to make an official announcement. But yes, I am to marry Mr. Trent.”
“Don’t you see?” Lord Stratton sounded irate as he addressed Emma. “Trent is doing exactly what I am doing. He is no better than I am. He’s only marrying you for your money. Why else would he be interested in you?”
“My interest in Miss Brentry need not concern you, Stratton. But I must say the fact you have admitted to only being interested in Miss Brentry’s money concerns me greatly. Be gone, sir. Be gone, before I am compelled to defend her honor.” Once again, Aaron rested both hands on his walking cane. He made as if to withdraw the blade.
“I must thank you, sir,” said Lord Stratton. “You have saved me from a disastrous marriage. I’ve come to realize Miss Brentry will be more trouble than she is worth. And if what you say is true, my advice to you would be to run your household with care. For if Miss Brentry is not to be in charge of Windhurst Hall’s management, my experience tells me that her father certainly will be. But no matter. It’s none of my concern. You can have her…for now. And as for Windhurst Hall…well, we shall see what’s to become of your ancestral home. Somehow, I’ll get to Cuthbert Williams, and if I succeed in getting what I want, you’ll both regret ever crossing my path.”
With those angry parting words, Lord Stratton was gone.
A sense of unease washed over Aaron at the veiled hint of a threat. Lord Stratton could be dealt with. But he wasn’t sure he could deal with his feelings concerning Emma. Feelings of remorse and guilt that were surfacing.
Remorse because having made love to Emma, he had taken her innocence. And guilt because the accusations Lord Stratton had thrown at his head were true. He was no better than Stratton.
He was prepared to marry Emma purely for her money.
A Merchant's Daughter Page 8
