Earl Interrupted

by Amanda Forester

  “I am sorry, sir. But…but this came for you.” The landlord held out a missive with a shaky hand.

  Eustace snatched the letter and slammed the door in the man’s face. The letter was from his mother, sent express. He ripped it open and scanned the contents.

  Eustace took a breath, allowing himself to smile for the first time since he had learned of Emma’s flight. His mother had intercepted a letter for Emma from the secretary for Lord Langley. Within was a revelation of all his stepsister’s conniving plans.

  Eustace took a flask from his coat pocket and took a generous swig, welcoming the burn as the liquor poured down his throat. He had to hand it to his stepsister; she certainly had plotted her escape quite nicely. She had accepted an arranged marriage with an American and planned to meet her chaperone in Portsmouth in three days’ time.

  He reclined on the bed and made himself comfortable. Mrs. Anders must not be the person he sought. He did not know where Emma was now, but that didn’t matter, because he knew where she was going to be. When she arrived in Portsmouth, he would be waiting.

  The only place she was going was the asylum.

  Nineteen

  Emma woke with a smile on her face. It was already midmorning, and she realized she had slept long, waking refreshed. For the first time since she’d left her home, she felt safe.

  In a series of circumstances she could not possibly have predicted, she had found herself in the company of new friends—and not just friends, but members of the aristocracy. Her stepmother would grind her teeth to the bone if she knew Emma was fraternizing with two unmarried earls. Eustace would be positively livid. He had such hopes of elevating his position, and here Emma was in the company of those he could not possibly hope to gain an acquaintance.

  Emma indulged in a smile of vindication but did not enjoy the gloat as much as she had imagined. It was not through any of her own doing that she found herself in such company. No, that was firmly in the hands of her maker. She readjusted her attitude, felt better, and decided it was past time to check on her patient.

  She feared Dare may already be awake and in pain, so she rang for Sally and dressed as quickly as she could. She took her medical bag downstairs and was informed by an aloof butler that Lord Darington was in the drawing room.

  It was hard not to feel a little cowed by the formality of it all. It was one thing to take care of an injured man in the heat of a crisis; it was another to be staying at his estate. She had believed him before, but it was not the same as seeing it for herself.

  She entered the drawing room and was a little taken aback. Dare was sitting on the settee, newspaper in hand. No, not the Dare she knew. This was the Earl of Darington. His clothes, his bearing, his rigid posture—all revealed him as an aristocrat and master of the house. Gone was the injured man she had known. This was a peer of the realm in his element. She paused, not sure if she should approach. He must have sensed her presence, for he looked up.

  “Miss St. James.” He pushed himself up slowly, a tightness in his jaw revealing the pain required to do so. Suddenly, she felt more at ease. This was the same man she had met on that muddy road. And he still needed her help.

  “Please do not rise.” She rushed into the room and sat in a chair next to him to prevent him from the obligation of having to stand. “I see you are doing better.”

  “I am, thanks to you.”

  “I brought you another dose to ease the pain.”

  Dare nodded. “Half dose if you please.”

  “Half of this dose will not deaden the pain.”

  Dare nodded. “Need to keep my wits about me. Half dose.”

  “As you wish,” she responded, keeping her admiration for his choice to herself. She had seen people become so attached to laudanum that they became no earthly good and seemed to slip deeper and deeper into pain and self-destruction. She admired a man who regulated himself against such an unfortunate outcome, though it meant living with pain for a time.

  She prepared the dose and he drank it down in one gulp, though she knew it was dreadfully sour. He was not one to complain, this Earl of Darington.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “Yes, very well indeed. I confess I was rather exhausted from all our adventures, though I feel quite myself now,” she hurried to add as a frown came over his face. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I did. Thank you.”

  “I suppose we will need to do something about those dreadful men today.”

  “Already done. Wynbrook and I met with the local magistrate here and explained things. He will straighten out the other magistrate and will look for the brigands.”

  “You explained everything?” asked Emma, wondering how candid Darington had been.

  “We kept to the same story Kate told the staff. I did not feel it necessary to involve you in the incident.”

  “Thank you,” said Emma, appreciating his protection. She wondered what would happen next. Did he still need her? The truth was, if he was well enough to walk to the sitting room, he was well enough to take care of his own wound. “I shall give the housekeeper some bandages, so you may tend your injury. I imagine she should have laudanum in her medicine cabinet. You know the dose that is right for you.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you, Miss St. James.” He paused. She waited, but he paused, seeming unsure how to proceed. “I do not suppose you found my signet ring in my waistcoat when it was removed?”

  Heat ran up the back of her neck at the memory of removing his clothing. “N-no, I fear not. Is it missing?”

  Dare gave a quick nod. “No matter. Probably fell out in the coach.” He took a breath as if he wished to say something else but paused, frowned, and looked away.

  “So this is your home.” Emma attempted to fill the awkward silence.

  “Yes.” Dare seemed relieved she had changed the subject…or started one. “I have not been back here since the day of my father’s funeral.”

  “The memories must be very difficult.”

  Dare looked past her to the bare walls beyond. “My father returned from sea in poor condition. A cannon blast had backfired and nearly blinded him. We were away at school. I knew his health was not good, but I had not thought him close to death. When we received the letter, it was a shock.” Though Dare’s tone never changed, he closed his eyes for a moment and opened them before continuing.

  “We returned to find the house…” He gestured to the sparse furnishings, which made the room feel neglected and forlorn. “I wish I knew who was responsible.”

  “Have you no idea? Did your father have any enemies?” Emma checked herself. “Forgive me for such a forward question.”

  “No, it is a relevant question.” He met her eyes with his dark ones. “My father was a captain in the Royal Navy. He was in command of a flotilla when he discovered a plot to capture a ship carrying four of the royal princes. It was one of his own fellow commanders, Captain Harcourt, who had accepted a large sum in gold bars to deliver the princes into the hands of their enemy.”

  “That is horrible. How could an Englishman and a captain in the Royal Navy betray his country?”

  Dare gave a slight shrug. “The love of money must have poisoned his soul. My father revealed the plot and Harcourt was taken into custody for treason. Unfortunately, the ship taking him to court martial was engulfed in a storm and never seen again. They found nothing but wreckage. It is assumed all hands perished.”

  Emma shook her head. “A horrible end to a horrible man.”

  “Aye. My father was rewarded with the gold bars that had been intended as the blood money for Harcourt, was promoted to admiral, and given the title of the first Earl of Darington.”

  “So you are the second.”

  “I am. Though I would give much to have my father still in possession of the title.”

  “Yes, of course.” Emma le
aned closer. “You have endured much.”

  “It was worse for Kate. We were both betrayed into debtor’s prison. Even as the Earl of Darington I could not protect her. I regret not being able to keep her safe.”

  Emma knew this admission was not made lightly or easily. He was letting her into his world and she was honored. Emma put a hand on his sleeve, unable to resist the desire to comfort.

  Dare stared down at her hand. Becoming self-conscious, Emma pulled away just as Dare raised his other hand and their hands collided. Somehow, in a manner that felt natural, fingers intertwined until they were holding hands.

  “Lady Kate is a strong and capable lady,” encouraged Emma. “I am quite impressed. And you managed to protect her from those highwaymen.”

  Dare shrugged. “Did what was required.”

  “You did more than that,” she argued.

  “No, you did that,” he said firmly.

  “Oh, I did not do much.” Emma shrugged off his praise out of habit. “I am just a silly country girl, after all.”

  “No.” Dare’s eyes blazed fierce. “Do not diminish yourself. Ever.”

  “I…I beg your pardon.” Emma was taken aback. Usually people appreciated when she lowered herself. It made everyone more comfortable when she took herself down a few pegs. But not Dare.

  “You saved my life. You are a better doctor than any I have ever met.” He held her hand tighter. “You are not silly. And you are not ‘just’ anything.”

  Emma stared at him in surprise. Most men felt threatened by a capable woman. It put them more at ease when she told them it was all her father’s teachings. She never mentioned the countless hours she studied medical texts and how she took her work seriously. Yet Dare was not one to allow her to be denigrated in any regard, even if it was at her own hand. Only an extremely confident man could do that. And the Earl of Darington was an extremely confident man.

  “Forgive me. It was wrong of me and I apologize,” she said sweetly.

  Dare gave her a quick nod and lowered his head in a sheepish manner as if just becoming aware of how harsh his defense of her had sounded. “Not accustomed to talking with ladies.”

  “Perhaps you’d best just think of me as a friend then, and forget about the female part.”

  “I would be honored,” he said gallantly. “Though I could hardly forget the latter,” he added softly.

  Emma felt heat rise in her cheeks. He knew she was female. Of course he was aware she was female, yet somehow his recognition of her made her feel shiny inside. “Shall we be friends then?”

  “As you wish.” He met her eyes and held them. His dark eyes were piercing, the tiny gold flecks blazing.

  She leaned closer, fascinated by the unique color of his eyes. He mirrored her, drawing near, pulling their joined hands closer to him. They leaned closer until they were inches apart. His lips parted and she suddenly became enchanted with his mouth.

  “Emma,” he whispered. “There is something I must ask you.”

  “Yes?”

  Footsteps from outside the drawing room made them both start, and they jerked back to their original seated positions. Wynbrook’s voice could be heard in the hall.

  “Perhaps another time,” muttered Dare.

  “Yes, yes.” Emma was suddenly feeling rather guilty, though she was unsure of her crime. “I should…I should give these medical supplies to the housekeeper.” She grabbed her medical kit and almost flew from the room, barely acknowledging Wynbrook in the hall as she passed.

  Something had just happened…or was happening. She was not sure what to name it, but she could not wait to see Darington again.

  What had he wanted to ask her?

  Twenty

  Dare cursed himself as he watched Emma leave. Why had he not asked her to marry him? He had planned to. He meant to. But somehow, when he looked into those deep, blue eyes, his tongue grew heavy and the words stuck in his throat. He wanted the proposal to be perfect, but how could he find the right words when he couldn’t find any words?

  Dare cleared his throat and reached for the familiar comfort of a freshly ironed newspaper. The butler had provided him not only with the most recent paper, but also with the copies from the past two days, so Dare could catch up on his reading. He opened the paper and skimmed it, though his mind was focused more on his current situation than on the state of the war on the Continent.

  He and Wynbrook had dealt with the magistrate as best they could. He had informed the staff of possible danger and to be on the lookout. It was his job to keep everyone safe, and he would do it to the best of his ability.

  Of additional concern was the loss of his signet ring. He never wore the thing, but kept it in the pocket of his waistcoat. With all the excitement, he had not thought to look for it. And now it was gone. He hoped the ring was truly lost and had not fallen into the hands of his abductors.

  “Dare! How are you doing old man?” Wynbrook strolled into the room, looking well and back to his good cheer.

  “Feeling older by the minute,” Dare admitted. Wynbrook took a seat opposite him by a cozy fire, which was the only thing cheerful about the otherwise barren sitting room. Their voices echoed in the room without any pictures, throw rugs, or ornamentation to break up the drab space.

  “I hear that’s what getting shot can do to a man,” laughed Wynbrook, who had an uphill climb in his attempt to drag Dare into good humor. “Though I do not know this from personal experience, nor do I wish to.”

  “I am glad my misfortunes can be used for the edification of others.”

  Wynbrook raised his eyebrows with a smile. “Quite right. I will learn from your mistakes, though in truth, this was no mistake but an act of unparalleled heroism in which you sacrificed yourself to save your sister.”

  Dare shrugged off the compliment. “You would have done the same.”

  “Oh, you think too highly of me. Though I might have been willing, I doubt I would have had the skill to do so. And yet, I am honored by your faith in me, so I shall pretend that I too could act the part of the hero should the need arise.”

  “Marrying my sister will be proof of your courage.”

  Wynbrook stopped short, his smile fading into something more earnest. “That is indeed what I intend to do.”

  Dare gave him a quick nod. Wynbrook and Kate had spent the night together. They should be wed. Besides, they liked each other; even Dare could see that. The men shared a look, for even between two men who shared a mutual affection for Lady Kate, neither was so blind as not to recognize her faults. Wynbrook might have a tough time convincing Kate, who had on numerous occasions expressed her intention never to marry, but if anyone was up to the task, it was Wynbrook.

  Now if only Dare could produce a similar outcome with Emma.

  Kate entered the room with her perpetual scowl and Wynbrook greeted her warmly. Though Kate did not readily reveal her emotions, Dare could see how her eyes softened when she looked at him. She was not immune to Wynbrook’s charms, and he hoped after all the difficulties she had experienced, she would allow herself to find happiness.

  Miss St. James also reentered the room and Dare forgot what he was thinking, reading, and possibly his own name. In the morning light, her golden ringlets glowed, framing her face, a contrast to sparkling, blue eyes and a perfect peaches-and-cream complexion. Her gown clung to her curvy shape as she walked, and her plump décolletage drove out any rational thought.

  Dare forgot himself and leapt up from his chair, grimacing at the sudden shock of pain. “Miss St. James.” He remembered not to address her informally before his two witnesses in the room. He motioned for her to take his own seat and sat down across from her.

  “What brings you on your journey, Miss St. James?” Kate asked Emma.

  Dare leaned forward so as not to miss a single word of Emma’s reply.

  “Oh, I hav
e embarked on a remarkable journey,” said Emma with a wide-eyed smile. “My…stepmother has arranged for me to marry a man in America. I know it seems a bit unusual to wed someone you’ve never met…” Emma proceeded to tell the others of her plans to accept an arranged marriage.

  As she did so, both Kate and Wynbrook shot glances at him. Not even Emma’s determined optimism could prevent a widespread sense of apprehension regarding her situation. There was more to the story than she was telling, that much Dare was certain. He was determined to uncover the whole situation and remedy it in his favor.

  “I do not suppose I could trouble you for a look at one of your newspapers?” Emma asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Dare handed her the entire stack of papers, including the one he was reading.

  “Thank you. I am so glad to catch up with my reading. I have not been able to get the Times for several days since I began my travels.”

  “You enjoy reading the paper? Capital,” praised Wynbrook. Dare was pleased his future wife enjoyed the paper as he did but felt Wynbrook had no business commenting on it.

  Emma gave a shrug. “I mainly read the gossip columns.”

  “I also enjoy glancing at them from time to time,” said Wynbrook with a social ease that Dare did not share. “Mostly, of course, to see if I am listed.” He continued to ask if Emma would see how his sister’s wedding was mentioned and raised his eyes at Dare when Emma’s golden head disappeared behind the paper.

  Dare realized he must have been glaring at Wynbrook and attempted to school his features, though he did wish Wynbrook would cease any conversation with his Emma. How was Dare to stand a chance if Wynbrook showed her how a gentleman was truly supposed to behave?

  Emma read a notice about Wynbrook’s sister’s wedding and went on to the next day.

  “There won’t be any mention of us the next day,” said Wynbrook.