ALSO BY MAUREEN DRISCOLL
THE EMERSON SERIES
ALWAYS COME HOME (EMERSON, BOOK ONE)
THE KELLINGTON SERIES
NEVER TURN AWAY (KELLINGTON, BOOK SIX)
NEVER DENY YOUR HEART (KELLINGTON, BOOK FIVE)
NEVER RUN FROM LOVE (KELLINGTON, BOOK FOUR)
NEVER WAGER AGAINST LOVE (KELLINGTON, BOOK THREE)
NEVER MISS A CHANCE (KELLINGTON, BOOK TWO)
NEVER A MISTRESS, NO LONGER A MAID (KELLINGTON, BOOK ONE)
THE POLITICAL SATIRE
DATING GEORGE CLOONEY
ALWAYS TRUE TO HER
By
Maureen Driscoll
To my mom. Now and forever.
CHAPTER ONE
On the Road to London, February 1823
It was odd to be back in England after so many years away. James Emerson was in a carriage on his way to London with his six-year-old daughter Anna. He was determined to settle a land dispute that would allow them to return to America, the place he’d lived for the past eight years.
The journey from his family’s estate in Wiltshire was both familiar and foreign. When he’d last made this trip, he’d been an angry young man of twenty, eager to make his way in the world. He’d been determined to prove to his tyrant of a father that he had worth. It was ironic, then, that he’d returned penniless. Though he was rich in one way: he loved being a father.
To say that he was short of funds was an understatement similar in scope to saying Almack’s might not be the most exciting place for a young lord to spend an evening. Not that James had been to Almack’s any time recently, nor, if he had the choice, would he visit at any point in the future. The only reason for a young unmarried man to visit Almack’s was if he were in search of a wife. James most certainly wasn’t. Of course, truth be told, he was hardly a young man anymore, either. He was already eight and twenty, and felt even older.
As the second acknowledged son of the late Earl of Ridgeway, James had left home at twenty, setting sail for America and a future of his own making. He’d spent eight years working hard to survive in a sometimes hostile land. He hadn’t traded on his name. Quite frankly, Americans didn’t care if you were a peer. If anything, it worked against you since they valued honesty and hard work above all else. And those were two things most peers had very little use for.
He’d trapped, hunted, even worked as a guide for easterners wanting to have a frontier adventure, but not too much of one. He’d learned to be a good fighter, though he had no stomach for it. The local militias has tried on more than one occasion to enlist his help in relocating natives who were reluctant to leave the land of their ancestors to make way for the expansion of the white man. But he would have none of it, especially since “relocation” was usually just a euphemism for “killing.”
In his first few winters, he likely would have starved had it not been for an Algonquin tribe in New York State. It was through their teachings that he’d learned enough about the land to make his living from it, which had helped him move to Kentucky, then Pennsylvania, where he’d been able to buy a small piece of property.
But his time with the Algonquin hadn’t just made him a better frontiersman. It had also given him the greatest present he could ever hope to have: his beautiful six-year-old daughter Anna.
Anna’s mother Alawa had been one of the interpreters for her people. He’d known none of their language when he’d first moved to a one-room cabin near their land. She’d been his main liaison with the tribe and was also one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Six months after meeting her, they’d begun a discreet affair. He’d missed his family a great deal and regretted moving to America. His time with Alawa had helped him feel less lonely. Neither of them thought there was a future with each other. Indeed, she was the one who ended their relationship. But he would always be grateful to her for helping him adjust to his new life. He only wished she had told him she was with child before he left New York.
It had only been six months earlier that she’d managed to track him down to send word about Anna. Alawa was dying and she knew their daughter would be better off away from a tribe that could be unkind to those of mixed race. James had had a brief moment of panic. He’d known nothing about being a father. His own sire had been a cruel son of a bitch who’d regularly beaten his children. But despite the panic, James had also felt an instant connection to the daughter he’d never met. There was no doubt in his mind that he would raise her. That he would love her.
He’d just acquired a small parcel of land in Pennsylvania and had not wanted to leave it unattended as he traveled to New York to meet his daughter. He had the deed, but frontier law often valued possession more than paperwork. So he’d asked an acquaintance to work the land while he was away. Cedric Wallace was five years older than James and the heir to Viscount Ainsworth. They hadn’t known each other in England, but there was a certain kinship they’d both felt when they’d crossed paths in Philadelphia.
James had set off to meet his daughter, then he’d stayed to nurse Alawa through the final few weeks of her life. With a grieving Anna in tow, James had gone back to Pennsylvania, only to find that Cedric had leased the land to a mining scheme, claiming ownership of it. Cedric had offered to cut James in on half the profits, but James wasn’t interested in mining or having a partner. When he’d pressed the matter, Cedric had said it was half or nothing. James had appealed to the local courts, but the mining company had advanced Cedric enough money that he’d been able to pay off the magistrate.
James had faced two choices: accept defeat or fight for his land. But even if he’d been so inclined to walk away – and he’d worked too hard to do that – he now had a daughter to support. He might be able to put up with the deprivations of frontier life as he rebuilt his small fortune, but he didn’t want to subject Anna to it. So he decided to fight for his land, even though it meant returning home to England.
England. A place with terrible memories, but also the home of his beloved brothers and sisters.
The Emerson family had been the subject of ton gossip for decades, thanks to the exploits of James’s parents and grandparents. They’d had affairs, fought duels and squandered the Emerson fortune. Everything that was not entailed had been sold to pay for their excesses. But even that had not been enough. When James’s brother Colin had come into his title after the death of their father three years earlier, he’d also inherited significant debts.
The current generation of Emersons wasn’t known just for its financial difficulties – though there were few in the ton who were unaware of them. They were also famous for their close resemblance. The Emersons had a very distinctive look of black hair and dark brown eyes. At least that was the case for all but one of them.
At thirty years of age, Colin Emerson, the Earl of Ridgeway, had the responsibilities and burdens of being head of the family. Their father had incurred so much debt that Colin had considered marrying an heiress to restore the estate to rights. But then he’d fallen in love with Ava Conway, a penniless governess. They’d married only a few weeks after James had returned to England.
At about the same time that Colin had been born some thirty years earlier, another boy had been born with the Emerson looks. Nicholas Chilcott was officially the third son of the Earl of Layton, whose estate was in the next county. However, it was common knowledge that he was not Layton’s get, but the result of an affair between James’s father and Nicholas’s mother. Given the infidelity that permeated ton marriages, it was hardly an unusual situation. And since he was the third son, it was but a minor infraction of society’s rules. However, when illness took the lives of both of Nicholas’s brother
s, Layton had been enraged. Some said the apoplexy that killed him was the result of his hatred for both the old Earl of Ridgeway and the man the law now recognized as Layton’s heir, Nicholas.
James, at eight and twenty, was two years younger than his brothers. He also had the Emerson looks, but in his case, he wore his hair straight and past his shoulders, a remnant of frontier life. He might be in England, but he had no desire to conform to its traditions. He also kept it long for Anna, since it was similar to how the men in her tribe had worn theirs. Anna’s long black hair was usually worn in two braids.
When he’d first met his daughter, he’d had no idea how to be a father. Plaiting her hair was a skill he’d had to learn, only the first of many. Though his love had been strong and constant from the start, he’d learned there were many parenting skills that did not come as second nature. Sometimes he even wondered which of them was the parent and which the child. His little girl often seemed wise beyond her years.
And he sometimes felt like a man lost in the world.
James’s sister Winifred was four and twenty. She’d been a beautiful young lady of sixteen when James had last seen her. Unfortunately, their father had sold her into marriage two years later to a wealthy merchant. From what little James knew of the situation, her husband Clarence Pierce was very controlling. The family saw little of her, despite their best efforts.
Almost nineteen, his other sister, Rosemary, had grown into a beautiful young woman. Unfortunately, the family’s lack of resources would prevent her from having a Season, but she seemed content staying at the family estate in Wiltshire, though why anyone would want to remain in the county he had not a clue. She was resourceful, having moved the family to the dower house while Colin had been in London, in order to lease the manor to tenants. Colin, Nicholas and James all hoped she would find a good husband one day to treat her as she deserved. It was just unfortunate that none of them knew a man worthy of her.
Leticia, known to everyone as Letty, was eight. And unlike every other Emerson, she had bright red hair and dark blue eyes. She was, as their late mother had boasted to anyone who would listen, not their father’s get. She had been conceived during a period when James’s parents had lived on different continents. He believed his mother had deliberately chosen a lover so different in looks from her husband that there would be no doubt as to the child’s parentage. Indeed, the old earl had had little use for Letty, often ignoring her existence all together. But their mother had neglected the girl, as well. All she’d wanted was to use the child as a weapon against her husband. Once that became boring, she simply moved on.
Fortunately, Letty’s brothers and sisters loved her all the more because of it.
That was James’s entire family, along with the precious girl at his side. He was happier than he’d care to admit to be back among them, and it pained him to think of leaving again. But he was a man now, a father. He did not wish to leave his brothers and sisters again, but he also did not want to be a burden to them when he had no way of supporting himself and Anna if he stayed in England. That was the disadvantage to being a lord with neither money nor skills. Well, he had skills, but somehow he didn’t think he could make a living as a frontiersman in England.
As if he needed a reminder of his lack of funds, he and Anna were travelling to London in Nick’s coach and they would be staying at his town house while his brother saw to matters at his country estate.
It had been a tiring day of travel as they entered the outskirts of London. The smell of coal fires from the city reached them long before they entered town. The acrid smoke, combined with the cold winter air, burned his lungs. He’d forgotten what that combination was like. He’d spent a great deal of time outside in the cold in America. In winter it was impossible to escape, even indoors. But he’d spent very little time in cities and certainly never one as big as London. He’d forgotten about the noise, the traffic and the smells – some much worse than the coal. And as foreign as it seemed to him, he could only imagine what Anna would think of it.
“Are you all right, love?” he asked her.
Anna turned and studied him with her dark eyes. They had a slight almond shape common to the native tribes of America. Her skin was the color of tea and her smile was glorious. Unfortunately, he saw it all too infrequently. And it was not in evidence now. Yet, there was no recrimination there, either.
If he were a fanciful man, which he most certainly was not, he would say her soul was in her eyes. She looked at him like this often. She asked few questions. She seemed to trust him implicitly. And it was her trust that terrified him. He would protect her against any threat. He would give her his last crust of bread to ensure she was well-fed. But he didn’t know what course of action would make her happy. And he wanted that for all the world.
She could speak English, but did not talk much. Of course, Letty had immediately taken her under her wing upon their arrival in Wiltshire, and with his sister there was very little opportunity for anyone else to talk. It had heartened him to see the girls spend so much time together. They’d even shared a room. And it appeared that Anna was coming out of her shell with Letty, Rose and Ava. But she remained especially quiet when it was just the two of them alone.
It worried James. But then, as Colin and Nicholas had reminded him, he wasn’t the most talkative man himself.
But now James and Anna were in London and hopefully one step closer to regaining his land. The carriage was making its way to Nicholas’s Mayfair residence. The Ridgeway town house had been sold more than a year earlier to help pay off their debts.
James hoped the trip would be brief. He planned on telling Wallace’s family what had transpired in America, hoping they would have enough honor to convince Cedric to return the land to him. Both Colin and Nicholas had doubted he would be successful with that tact. Cedric Wallace’s father was Viscount Ainsworth, a proud man who’d often bragged of his son’s exploits. It would be difficult for him to admit to such a failure on his son’s part.
If Ainsworth could not be persuaded to do the right thing, James hoped the threat of a scandal would do the trick. James was prepared to take Ainsworth to court, since his name was on the deed the mining company had shown him. He did not wish to embarrass Wallace’s family – nor was he particularly anxious to give the gossips yet more fodder about the Emersons – but if this was the only way to get his land back he would do it.
Once that was accomplished, he could return to America.
He didn’t like to think of the pain that thought gave him. It would be even more difficult to leave his family this time around. But he had Anna now. She was everything to him and he couldn’t disappoint her.
It was dark when the carriage pulled up to Nicholas’s town house. His brother had sent word to let his staff know they would be arriving, but James doubted they’d have a warm reception.
Because of Nicholas’s parentage, the longtime family servants had always treated him with a certain disdain. It didn’t help matters that Nicholas’s cousin Simon was becoming more and more vocal in his grumblings that he was the late earl’s true heir. It would take an act of Parliament to divest Nick of his title, but significant damage could be done short of legal action. Simon had been making the rounds of social engagements, complaining to anyone who would listen.
And since this was the ton, everyone listened.
One of the coachmen opened the carriage door, then let down the steps. James nodded his thanks, then helped Anna out. He held her hand as they ascended the steps to the imposing stone manor.
The door opened just as they reached it. The butler, Williams, stood there with as much disapproval on his face as James had ever seen on a servant. He wondered how Nicholas could abide it.
“Good evening, Williams,” said James, as he escorted Anna inside. “I trust Lord Layton’s letter arrived telling of our journey.”
“Yes,” said Williams.
James noted the lack of a “my lord,” at the end of that statement. Fra
nkly, he hadn’t used his title in years, but this man should have enough respect for Nick to treat his guests well. A lack of deference for James was a lack of respect for Nick. And that rankled. “This is my daughter, Miss Anna Emerson. I would like to get her a hot meal and into a warm bed as soon as possible.”
Williams stared at the girl as if unable to believe she was standing in front of him.
“Williams,” said James, in a much less charitable tone now that his daughter was coming under scrutiny. “I have been away from England for several years, yet I do believe your response should have been in the form of a bow to my daughter, a ‘my lord’ to myself and the assurance that you would follow my directive straight away. We are the earl’s guests, after all.”
Williams bowed a barely perceptible amount. “Yes, my lord. I will see what can be done about a meal. And Mrs. Franklin will show Miss Emerson to the nursery.”
“I do not wish to use the nursery. I would like to have a suite where she can be in the next room.”
“That is most unusual,” said Williams with a raised brow.
“Be that as it may, it is what I will have. And here is Mrs. Franklin to escort us now.” He nodded to the dour-faced servant who led them upstairs.
James wasn’t sure what Anna’s reaction would be to the house, which showed the wealth of generations of Laytons. There was a tapestry on the wall in the entryway, expensive marble flooring, and priceless vases from the Orient. It was definitely the home of a wealthy earl, but it didn’t seem to fit Nick. Though James didn’t know Nick as well as Colin, he’d never appeared to be someone overly impressed by his wealth. Nor someone to flaunt it. Yet the house had changed little over the years, as if Nick were simply keeping it for the next Earl of Layton.
As if he didn’t believe he deserved the title.
James and Colin had never visited Nick at this house while his father had been alive, and only once when his mother had lived there. But James had visited often enough afterward that the senior servants knew him, even if they didn’t like him. It was yet another reason to hope his business could be concluded quickly.
Always True to Her (Emerson Book 2) Page 1
