An Earl To Remember (The Yorkshire Downs Series - Love, Hearts and Challenges) (A Regency Romance Story)

by Jasmine Ashford

  “Oh, good,” Henry sighed. “Sorry, cousin, but these events have worried me deeply.”

  “And me too, cousin,” Evelyn agreed. She stood and he bowed.

  “Farewell.”

  “Farewell, Henry. And send me word if you find anyone watching the house.”

  “I shall, cousin. Keep me informed, too.”

  She took her leave and then, briskly, headed down the stairs. The death of Henry's steward was deeply worrying. This case was something deeply sinister and she did not like it at all.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A STRANGE LETTER

  A STRANGE LETTER

  Emilia sat up. She rolled over, feeling vaguely ill. She was not sure what was wrong with her, only guessed the emotional turmoil of the last week or so had taken its toll. Her brother's story had frightened her, and the thought that her husband was murdered became harder to dismiss. The added horror that perhaps Oscar was involved scared her even more.

  “Who is that man?” She murmured it to herself as she sat up. Wrapping a blanket around her lacy night robe, she hugged herself, feeling suddenly cold. She walked to the window, looking out.

  The thought that Oscar had been one of the men who apprehended her, and thus could be in any way involved with killers – was sickening.

  I liked the man.

  If she was truthful with herself, she had more than liked him. He had brought back feelings that she honestly believed had died with Lucian. Strange new feelings too, different to the ones Lucian had called up in her. Excitement, lightness, and surprise.

  She had not felt any of those things when she met her husband – she had liked him instantly, and the liking had gradually broadened and deepened into a love that was peaceable and reassuring. The wild excitement that Oscar had called up in her even at their first meeting was not anything like how she had felt about her dear Lucian.

  “And to think that he...that he...” she felt her stomach lurch and bent over, afraid she might be sick. She wanted to purge her body of all those feelings, make herself forget she had been so traitorous to Lucian.

  But he did save my life.

  That fact remained. If he had been the man in the woods, as she was almost certain he was, she could not deny the fact that he had stepped in when she was threatened with harm. He had spoken for her at personal risk.

  “But if he knew about the danger, why did he not warn me?”

  He had been in Yorkshire when she was. He had left shortly after she had. Now he was in London, arriving days after she was abducted? The coincidence was too great. It must have been him. In which case, he could have told her to delay her journey.

  Emilia sat down, feeling her head spin. All this confusion was surely going to drive her mad. She covered her head with her hands. At that moment there was a knock on the door. She stirred.

  “My lady?”

  “Yes, Janet?” She looked up blankly at the maid who entered with a tray.

  “Lady Brokeridge said to bring you a posset. Here it is. Begging your pardon if I woke you?”

  “I was awake,” Emilia said. “Thank you. Is Lady Brokeridge here?”

  “She is out, my lady. She went alone in the carriage for a drive just a moment ago, and then she and the master mean to meet up for an early luncheon. I think she plans to be back in by two of the clock.”

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  “Of course, milady. Call me if you need anything further.”

  The maid curtsied and left.

  She reached for the glass with the posset, eating it slowly with a long-handled spoon. Additionally, she felt less nauseous after she had finished, and started to realize she was hungry. She must have slept through luncheon and she had eaten very little that morning.

  Suddenly feeling better, she stood up and reached for the writing set Evelyn had left on the low table. She decided to try and record her thoughts, hoping to understand them better as she did so.

  She worked for half an hour and then was disturbed again when someone knocked at the door.

  “My lady?”

  “Yes?” she called.

  “Sorry to disturb, but someone left a letter for you. Should I bring it in?”

  “Oh, yes. Thank you.” Emilia wondered who it might be. Was it from Henry? Heart thumping, she took it from the maid and broke the seal.

  Dear Lady Sumpter, the letter was addressed. I trust this letter finds you in good health.

  The writing was neat and flowing and not at all like Henry's hand. She read further.

  I trust you will not consider it an impertinence to write to you. But upon seeing you here in London I could not ignore the fact that I have much I need to say to you. If you would do me the honor of meeting me in St. James's park on any morning this week between nine of the clock and eleven, I would value it extremely highly.

  She came to the end of the text and read the salutation at the end.

  Yours faithfully, Oscar.

  Emilia dropped the letter. She sat down heavily in the embroidery-covered chair. Her whole body was shaking.

  Why would he want to see me? What is he planning?

  Emilia stood and walked to the window, feeling restless and afraid. She knew nothing of this Oscar – she still did not even know his surname. All she knew was that he was almost certainly in that forest house when she was kidnapped. That was enough to make her wonder who he was and why he would want to meet with her.

  Did he have some role in Lucian's death?

  She watched the maid walk along the side-path from the kitchen, carrying washing to a discreet line behind the house. She hung out linen and shirts, petticoats and shawls. As she watched, she thought about the ball when she saw Oscar. How she had felt to dance with him. How she had liked him.

  If only I knew who he was! If only I knew if I could trust him.

  Emilia desperately wanted to trust him. She needed someone she could trust. Besides Evelyn, her husband and Henry, there seemed precious few friendly faces in her world.

  She bit her lip. As she watched from the window, the wind rose, buffeting the clothes line and casting leaves and petals into the air. A rose petal drifted up and landed on the sill. Emilia stared at it.

  Pink and pearly, the rose petal seemed to her a symbol of innocent love.

  If I go to the park, she thought, there will be many other people there. She considered it more deeply. If she went, she could hear his story. She would be safe; if he tried to attack her she could always simply scream. She would also find out more. There was so much for her to gain: peace of mind, information, freedom to make a choice about him. She had nothing to lose, besides ignorance.

  Suddenly feeling a sense of deep resolve, she lifted her skirts in one hand and headed to the parlor. She checked that Evelyn had not returned and then went back to her room.

  Reaching for a pen and parchment, she settled down to write a note for Evelyn.

  Dearest cousin. I am visiting the park to meet with an acquaintance. I expect to return before midday. Please do not fret – I am certain I am much better. I trust you had a pleasant outing. Yours sincerely, Emilia.

  She cast sand on the ink to dry it and then folded the note. She reached for her coat, bonnet and purse, and then headed briskly down the hall. She left the note in the parlor on the windowsill. Evelyn often sat in the seat by the fire, looking out of the window. If she was going to find the note, she would surely find it there. She hoped so.

  Leaving the parlor, she continued down to the front entrance. Looking around the hall and feeling somewhat nervous, Emilia took a deep breath.

  Whatever happens now, I will have learned something by the time I return here.

  Drawing a second deep breath, she crossed the threshold and headed out into the windy, cloud-gray streets.

  She hailed a hackney coach and asked the driver to take her to St. James' park. Then she leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling her heart thumping in her chest. All she could do was trust that her instincts about Oscar when sh
e first met him had been true. Or she was meeting a murderer. Feeling herself shiver, she looked down at her hands, striving for calm. The carriage sped through the dark streets, slick with the night's rain, and toward the park. They seemed to take no time at all before they were drawing up outside the tall iron gates and the driver was calling down to her that they had arrived.

  Emilia swallowed and reached into her purse for change. She handed it up and he headed on his way.

  Then she walked to the gates, feeling, for some reason, as if she was walking to certain death.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A SURPRISING EXCHANGE

  A SURPRISING EXCHANGE

  St. James' park. A long path stretching between high poplars. It seemed serene and lovely, an unlikely scene for a death. The fence, tall and wrought-iron, disappeared behind Emilia as she stepped in and she looked over the lawns that were long and emerald in the pale cloudy day.

  Even at this time, just under an hour before midday, Emilia was far from alone here: the lawns were busy with gentlemen in hats and ladies in long dresses, taking a turn about the park. She heard a shout and jumped back, heart beating fast.

  “Run, run!” A childish voice shouted happily. “See it go?”

  She breathed out, feeling relieved, and watched as a family walked to the trees, the little girl rushing after a hoop, calling out excitedly, her younger sister playing with a dog. Their happy laughter cut into her chest, making her feel a raw sadness. She did not remember when she had last felt so carefree as those little girls were, as alive. Had she ever had such a time? It was certainly not now as she walked lightly along the stone pathway, looking right and left nervously, trying to spot Oscar.

  She tried to recall if he had mentioned anywhere in his note, but all he had said was, “in the park”. Not whereabouts within the park.

  Emilia bit her lip – St James' park was by no means small, and there were at least fifty people here at any time. Would she be able to find him?

  She settled down on a stone bench to think about that. She decided to use what she knew about Oscar – which seemed precious little – to make a guess of where he might stand and wait. As she considered it, she realized she knew more than she had considered she did.

  He is a nobleman and so he probably wouldn't wait near the gate. He is friendly, but not indiscreet and would not wait somewhere where everyone would notice. He is striking and would not blend in without trying.

  All that made her guess she would find him away from the crowds. Somewhere solitary. She kept this in mind and walked away from the right-hand path, where some families were setting out picnic blankets and a group of young people played at croquet. She turned left instead, where she saw an elderly couple walking arm-in-arm, but no others. Here there were soaring poplars and shaded areas, and a little copse with trees. A tall box-hedge grew up ahead, screening a shaded arbor. Emilia took a guess that he would be somewhere there – either in the copse or in the shadow of the hedge. She headed on boldly.

  She did not have to go far before she saw a figure standing just in the treeline. He was neither particularly tall nor short. He wore a top-hat and stylish greatcoat. She could not see his hair under the hat, all but for a thin line which glinted in the light, showing it was pale. It must be him. She walked up quietly behind him, taking a guess. She breathed out.

  “Lord Oscar?”

  He whipped round, sapphire-pale eyes huge. When he recognized her, he bowed, hand on his chest.

  “Lady Sumpter. Forgive me. I thought...well, it matters not. I am so pleased you came!”

  He smiled at her, blue eyes twinkly. She felt her heart thumping fast, despite herself. It was not all with fright or fear. She looked down.

  “Our maid brought me your note,” she explained. “You wished to meet?”

  “I did.” He nodded, and then bowed deeply to her. “I owe you my apologies, my lady. I am afraid I have not been entirely clear with you, and for that I hope you will forgive me. There are...reasons I must be cautious.”

  Emilia raised a gold brow. “Indeed?” she asked, feeling a sudden bitter anger. Here he was, being secretive and subtle, when for all she knew he could be the man who killed her husband. “Such as?”

  “Well,” he cleared his throat and looked down uncomfortably. “Such as...”

  “Such as the fact that you were here from my first day in London, were you not? On the road to London, in the woods?” she cut across him sharply.

  He stared at her. He went white. His eyes widened. “My lady...”

  Emilia was shocked at her boldness, but she could not stop her words. “You were there,” she insisted. “You cannot deny it now. You were in the woods with those men, masked and cloaked like the rest.”

  Oscar was looking down at his hands. He spread his white-gloved fingers as if inspecting them, and she could see a vein pulse in his throat. He was clearly agitated. Once again, she licked dry lips, wondering if she had pushed him beyond restraint. What if he was the killer, would he kill her now?

  Just as she was turning back to the pathway, heart thudding, he spoke.

  “Forgive me.”

  It was not the words but the sincerity of them. Emilia reached out a hand before she thought about it, reaching for his. “You do not need to ask for that.” She paused. “You saved my life.”

  Oscar made a hiccupping sound that could have been laughter, if very low and bitter. “I allowed you to be threatened first.”

  Emilia raised a brow. “My lord, I don't know how you were supposed to stop that from happening.”

  He did laugh, then, and his smile made him as handsome as he was in her memory of him from when she had first met him at the ball. His eyes were lit with genuine humor. “I cannot blame you for that seeming somewhat unlikely. I am not much of a hero, I'm sorry to say. Nor do I look like one.”

  Emilia laughed too, at his candidness if not his statement. He did, if she thought about it, look rather heroic. “I did not mean that. I simply meant there were four other men there besides you. And for whatever reason you were cloaked as one of their number.”

  Oscar looked down again. “I was. My lady, there are many things I should tell you. I would like to tell you. Now it is not safe. Perhaps one day in the not-too-distant future it will become possible. Then I promise that I shall. Until then,” he paused. “Would you trust me?”

  Emilia cleared her throat. She felt as if someone had tightened a cloth around it, choking her. She stroked the hollow between her collarbones thoughtfully. “I can certainly try.”

  He laughed again. This time he took her hand and squeezed it before gently releasing her again. “That was a refreshing way to answer, my lady. Refreshing and very honest. I appreciate it. Anyone who has spent time in London nowadays values those virtues very highly.”

  Emilia laughed too, though it was a shaky giggle. “I certainly believe that.”

  His eyes met hers. “Well, that's a fine start. At least you believe something I say. Yes?”

  Emilia blushed. His eyes were warm on hers and he had taken her hand again. She looked down to where his fingers held her white silk glove.

  “As you say, sir.”

  He did not look away. Their eyes seemed to be chained together, so that neither wished to shift their gaze.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I should tell you as much as I can here and now, while it is safe to do so.”

  Emilia raised her brow. “Before you begin, I have a special request.”

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “I would like to know your name.”

  He smiled. The hand which still held hers gripped it briefly and then relaxed. “I do owe you that, my lady,” he said, studying his hands again. “I have asked for your trust, so I must grant mine. However, if you speak of this it could end in death. For me, that is. Not for you. My name is Oscar Hampton.”

  Emilia stared at him. She knew that name! He was the sole heir of Albert Hampton, Duke of Everly.

  “Your lo
rdship!” she dropped into a curtsy. He stared at her, almost frightened.

  “Nay, Lady Sumpter. You do not owe me any courtesy. I almost got you killed, though I had not meant to. You should hate me!”

  Emilia blinked. “Nay, Lord Oscar. I could not hate you.”

  “Thank you.”

  As before, she could not look away. This time, his grip on her fingers tightened and he gently stroked the back of her hand, then let go.

  “You said you wished to say something to me?” Emilia said, amazed at how tight her voice was.

  “Yes.” He paused. “Lady Sumpter I...excuse me for being alarmist, but I must speak true. You are in grave peril.”

  Emilia stared. “I? But...but why? Who...?” Who would wish me harm? I am no one's enemy. I am not a threat to anyone!

  Oscar sighed. “I did not mean to frighten you. But I had to tell you.”

  “Can you tell me why? And how you know? Oscar, please. I need to understand.”

  It was only as she said it that she realized she had called him by his first name. She covered her mouth with her hand.

  “I can tell you some things. But I must tell you one thing now, Emilia. I will do anything to keep you safe.”

  Emilia stared. His tone made of her name an incantation, a magic spell that whispered over her heart and made it shiver.

  They looked at each other gravely. Then he took her hand. He stared into her eyes. He lifted it to his lips.

  Emilia shut her own eyes. His lips touched her hand and withdrew. She missed their touch even as they did so.

  “My word is my promise, my lady. I pledge my life to your service. Now and always.”

  Emilia looked at him with soft eyes. She wanted so deeply to believe him. He made her feel, now and from the day she had met him, like her heart was coming back to life. She felt as carefree as the children she had seen running in the park. She felt wonderful.

  “I thank you for that pledge,” she said gravely.