Always True to Her (Emerson Book 2)

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Always True to Her (Emerson Book 2) Page 2

by Maureen Driscoll


  “We did not know you wanted to share a suite, my lord,” said Mrs. Franklin. “It may take a moment for the maid to ready your daughter’s room. I trust you did not bring a governess with you.” From her tone it was clear she knew he had not.

  “We do not employ a governess,” said James, as he squeezed Anna’s small hand. “Miss Emerson and I do well enough alone.”

  And even as he said the words, he was pleased to realize they were true. At least so far. Anna did need a mother. But since that would necessitate his taking a wife, he began to wonder if perhaps a governess wouldn’t be the worst idea after all.

  They arrived in the suite that had been set aside for him. He noted it was one of the smaller ones. He did not care. It was still more luxurious than anywhere he’d stayed in America. James walked through the adjoining sitting room to the bedchamber on the other side. It was cold and dark, though Mrs. Franklin said a fire would soon be lit.

  “This is your room for the next few days, Anna,” he said. “Do you like it?”

  The little girl looked around the room, while standing close to her father. She took in the large tester bed, the chair by the fire, the vanity near the window, the elegant settee. She looked up at her father again. “Where will you be?”

  “In the other bedchamber.”

  Anna craned her neck to see the sitting room they had just passed through, then the door to his bedchamber beyond. James had to admit it looked to be a good distance away. As a small child, Anna had stayed in the same room as her mother. When James and Anna had travelled, she’d stayed on a small trundle bed next to him. In Wiltshire, she’d shared a room with Letty. James realized this might be the first time in his daughter’s life that she would sleep alone in her room. And this was a strange house with unfriendly servants.

  Yet she didn’t complain or ask him to stay. She only looked up at him again with those trusting eyes.

  “Anna,” he said. “Would you like it if I slept in the room with you? I can bed down on that settee.”

  He was rewarded with one of her rare, beautiful smiles.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The next morning, James walked the four blocks from Nicholas’s town house to the home of Viscount Ainsworth. He hadn’t wanted to leave Anna in a strange house, so she was there with him, her small hand in his.

  She was wearing fur-lined boots, thick cotton stockings and a long wool gown that had once been Letty’s. Before the journey from America, he’d bought her the warmest bonnet and coat Philadelphia had to offer. Yet, he was still worried she was cold, especially since she would never complain if she were. Just to be safe, James picked her up and held her as he studied the house across the street.

  He’d stopped half a block away to study the structure in front of him. It was a tactic he’d learned on the frontier. It was always wise to study one’s opponent before meeting. And while he hoped this would not become adversarial, he wanted to prepare himself, just in case.

  From what he could see, it appeared Ainsworth’s finances were in good order. James had seen any number of liveried footmen pass by the windows. The half dozen stairs leading up to the door were clear of snow, ice and refuse of any kind. The shutters were not in need of paint.

  It was much like the other houses on the street. Majestic, with an imposing knocker on the door. He was too far away to know for certain, but he imagined it was the Ainsworth coat of arms. The old Ridgeway town house had had something similar and James’s father had insisted it be polished daily, regardless of whether it was actually dirty. James idly wondered if the new owners of Ridgeway house had replaced it with something else.

  There was movement in a window on the second storey. James’s attention was immediately focused on where it had come from. He waited, motionless, to see if it might happen again. But it didn’t.

  He crossed the street and took the stairs two at a time, then rapped the knocker, which was, indeed, the Ainsworth coat of arms.

  The door opened a moment later, revealing a butler who stared at James and Anna. James could feel himself being evaluated and found wanting.

  “What is your business here?” asked the servant.

  “I am Lord James Emerson, come to see Viscount Ainsworth.”

  The butler took another look at him. It was clear he doubted the “lord” part of James’s previous sentence. “Do you have a card, sir?”

  James blinked. He’d forgotten about such niceties since he’d been away. “No.”

  The butler looked at Anna again, disapproval clear on his face. “His lordship is not at home.”

  “I am the Earl of Ridgeway’s brother and have come on business concerning Mr. Cedric Wallace. His lordship will wish to see me.”

  That seemed to surprise the butler and it was clear he was torn between wanting to shut the door on James and desiring to learn about Cedric. James was fairly certain the butler truly wanted to do both.

  Finally, the insufferable man said “Wait here,” before disappearing into the house, leaving James and Anna outside.

  James held his daughter closer to him, then kissed her cheek. He looked up in time to see the curtain in the second storey window move again.

  The butler reappeared. “His lordship will see you now.”

  “Thank you,” said James as he entered the house.

  “You’re not going to bring that, are you?” the butler asked, indicating Anna.

  If James’s arms hadn’t been full and he hadn’t needed to see Ainsworth quite so much, he would have planted the man a facer. Perhaps he still could on the way out.

  “This young lady is my daughter,” said James quietly, in the tone of voice that made him feared in America. “Insult her again at your peril.”

  The butler turned a shade whiter, which was impressive since he was rather pale to begin with. Then he escorted James and Anna through the house to the study, where he pointedly kept the door open.

  Viscount Ainsworth was at his desk writing. And he was not what James had been expecting. He couldn’t have been older than sixty, yet was thin to the point of being gaunt. His expensive jacket hung loosely on his frame and he had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His hand shook as he put his pen down. His gaze, however, was sharp as he looked at James and Anna.

  James put his daughter on her feet. “My lord.” He bowed to the man.

  Ainsworth nodded, but did not rise. “You’re Ridgeway’s brother.”

  “Yes, my lord.” James remained standing, holding Anna’s hand.

  “Carter said you have recently seen Cedric. I assume you’ve been in America.” Here he looked at Anna.

  James stiffened. Evidently Anna felt it for she looked up at her father. He tried to make himself relax. “Might we have a seat?”

  Ainsworth nodded, then pointed to the two chairs in front of his desk. James helped Anna into one then took the other.

  “How do you know Cedric?”

  “I met him in Philadelphia. I believe he’d only arrived in America some six months earlier. He wanted to explore the west, but was unfamiliar with the frontier.” That was the kindest way James could have described Cedric Wallace’s complete ignorance of how to go about making his living from the land. He couldn’t shoot, he couldn’t prepare his own meals, he couldn’t even dress himself without his valet. He also had a knack for insulting everyone he came in contact with, insisting on having them recognize his position as a viscount’s heir.

  James had only agreed to take him to the frontier for two reasons. One was that Wallace was willing to pay well. And the other was that James had missed England and when Cedric wasn’t being a complete pain in the arse – which he almost always was – he was a source of the familiar. They both knew England and it had meant a great deal back then.

  “Was he well when you left him?” There was real concern in the viscount’s eyes. His entire demeanor seemed to soften.

  “He was in good health. But I cannot say I was best pleased with his personal conduct.”

  T
he viscount bristled. “So that’s it. You’ve come here to extort money from me.”

  James was taken aback by the accusation. Though, given the illustrious reputation of the previous generation of Emersons, he supposed it wasn’t all that surprising. “I am only here to get what is my due.” James explained the circumstances under which Cedric had come to stay on his land and the contract he’d entered into with the mining concern.

  “So you’re calling my son a thief.” Ainsworth was clearly agitated.

  “I am not calling him anything. I am only interested in taking back what is mine.”

  “Why have you come to me with this?”

  “Because I would like you to give up any claim to the land and persuade your son to do so, as well.”

  “What proof do you have that you are telling the truth?”

  “I have a sworn statement from the man who sold me the land.”

  “But how do I know you did not go into partnership with my son after that? If the local magistrate did not find in your favor, why should I?”

  “Because I am a gentleman.”

  “So is my son.”

  “By birth, not by deed.”

  The viscount said nothing in response. James wondered if this was the first time Cedric had been accused of an unethical act.

  “Those are strong words, sir,” said a lady behind him.

  James turned to see a tall older woman approaching, walking with a silver-tipped cane.

  Viscount Ainsworth rose unsteadily from his seat. “Mama, there is no need for you to involve yourself in this.”

  “Is there not? This man, looking like a heathen, has just made an accusation against your son and heir which should be met with a challenge and pistols at dawn. Yet, you seem remarkably sanguine about it. Explain yourself, Ainsworth.”

  If possible, it seemed that Ainsworth shrank even as he stood there. He turned his attention from his harridan of a mother to James. “Emerson, I cannot believe my son is capable of such wicked deeds.”

  “I can assure you that not only is he capable, but he has done them. If you will not persuade your son to do what is right, I will be forced to bring this matter to the courts.”

  The dowager viscountess inhaled sharply. “You would not dare.”

  “I most assuredly will, though I hope we can settle this amicably. But if not, I will not hesitate to take action. The mining concern lists Lord Ainsworth as a shareholder. That gives me the right to bring this before a magistrate in London.”

  “You would not dare go up against Viscount Ainsworth,” said the man’s mother.

  “I’d go up against anyone in the empire if it meant regaining what is rightfully mine.”

  “You will not win,” she said. “Indeed, we will bring a case against you for false prosecution. He is Viscount Ainsworth.”

  “And my brother is the Earl of Ridgeway. I also have the truth on my side.” Though that certainly hadn’t helped him in Pennsylvania.

  The dowager viscountess stepped closer to him. “But we have the well-respected title of Ainsworth behind us whereas you have one brother who is close to being hauled away to debtors’ prison and another who’s the bastard interloper holding the title of Layton. And from what I understand that shall soon be remedied.”

  “My lady, I do not permit others to speak ill of my family. I will ignore your comments this once, allowing that the shock of hearing about your grandson’s misdeeds has overset you. I shan’t be so forgiving a second time. I would also like to remind you that if these accusations were to be aired in court, it would cast aspersions on your family’s good name. Even if you were to win the case, damage would be done.”

  “So now we come to your real purpose. You seek to destroy our family name.” The old woman almost looked amused.

  “No. I am simply telling you what I will do if this cannot be settled privately. I worked very hard for my land. Your grandson stole it from me. I will not give it up. If you wish to avoid a public fight, I suggest you look for a way to settle this.”

  “We will do no such thing. And if you even think of bringing this to court, I promise I will ruin your entire family. It won’t take much to make good on my promise. They’re already halfway there. As for you and your….” Here she looked at Anna with disgust.

  “Take care with your next words, Lady Ainsworth,” said James. He would never strike a woman or an infirm old man. But he was not beyond smashing a few priceless vases.

  “Get out of this house, Emerson.”

  “So you have chosen to fight this in court. Very well, my lady. And it is Lord James. Good day, my lord.” It was no wonder the man looked so shrunken with a mother like that and a son like Cedric. James picked Anna up and walked out of the room.

  There was no real reason to carry her, except it comforted him. And he needed it after that spectacular failure.

  He was so angry when he left the study that he almost ran into a young lady. She had fair hair and blue eyes, and was dressed in a gown that was more expensive than all of his possessions put together. Admittedly, that wasn’t saying much in his current state. But it was yet another example of Ainsworth’s wealth. He had no need to take James’s land. He already had all the wealth he could possibly want.

  “Pardon me,” he said, as he brushed past her. If she responded, he did not hear. He was out the door and back on the street in an instant. Which was just as well, since the idea of going back and smashing those vases was a tempting one.

  He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But he had no choice but to make his private life public.

  *

  Irene Wallace watched the man she’d seen from her upstairs bedchamber depart the house. He was clearly upset, but her grandmother often had that effect on people. What was noteworthy was that he was seething with anger, yet tenderly holding his daughter. He was, obviously, a man of contradictions.

  She’d watched him study their house from across the street earlier. She’d been alarmed at first. His hair was long, his clothes were rough and he was heavily muscled. If he’d been alone, she would have warned Carter that a ruffian might attempt to break into the house.

  But he hadn’t been alone. He’d been holding the beautiful little girl. And she had leaned her head against him in such a loving and trusting way that Irene’s view of the man had changed. Then when they’d been waiting on the steps, the man had kissed her. Irene had found herself with a lump in her throat. She could not ever remember her father doing such a thing. Her grandmother certainly never had. Perhaps Irene’s mother had done so, but she’d died so long ago that Irene had no distinct memories of her.

  She had not recognized the man and had been surprised when he’d gained entrance. Carter could be exasperatingly particular in whom he allowed admittance. Irene had been curious, so she’d gone to the grand staircase, then overheard much of what had transpired.

  She couldn’t believe Cedric was guilty of what the man – Lord James – had accused him of doing. Her brother had his faults, but he was not dishonorable. She’d been surprised when he’d told her he was going to America, but he’d been excited by the prospect of starting over in a land where no one knew him. She’d admired him for it. She’d even envied him a bit. It was exactly the type of freedom she’d always wanted but been denied.

  But such was the lot of ladies.

  At three and twenty, she was a decade younger than her brother and did not know him well. But she could not believe him guilty of the allegations Lord James had levied against him. Grandmama had certainly not lent them any credence, though her father hadn’t defended Cedric as much as he might have. But then, Papa hadn’t been himself since before her brother had left.

  Irene entered the study to find her father conferring with his mother. “Who was that man?” she asked. Then she gasped when she saw her father’s grey face. “Papa, are you unwell?”

  “Your father is perfectly fine,” said the dowager dismissively. “And that man was naught but an extortionist. He want
s to extract money from this family and has threatened to take Ainsworth to court. That’s just like an Emerson. The old Earl of Ridgeway was a scoundrel and the new one is even worse.”

  Irene did not know much about either the former earl or the current one. While she’d made her debut some five years earlier, she disliked the social whirl and tried to avoid it as much as possible. She’d heard rumors that the current Earl of Ridgeway had been searching for an heiress, but had then married a governess. That had been a source of great amusement in the ton, but Irene rather thought many of the ladies’ acidic comments were prompted by their disappointment that the Earl of Ridgeway was no longer in the market for a countess. For her part, she thought it must have been a love match since from what she’d heard – not that she paid attention to gossip – the earl had truly needed the money.

  Irene only wished she would find someone to love her that much. She had a nice dowry, which her grandmother had said would help offset the lamentable fact that she was taller than was fashionable. She’d been courted by a dozen gentlemen over the years, but she’d never felt the spark that could lead to love. And she was determined not to marry without it.

  Irene had little use for titles – not that it mattered what her thoughts were on the subject. The dowager viscountess was determined that Irene marry as well as possible. Of course, her grandmother and she had very different definitions of what would constitute marrying well. The dowager would not accept anyone lower than an earl, with the possible exception of a second son of a marquess or duke if the heir was a bit sickly, prone to drunken dueling or had the habit of siring only daughters.

  The man also had to be plump in the pocket, which was one of the reasons Irene had been kept away from the Earl of Ridgeway when he’d been on the hunt for a bride.

  Her family’s fortune was sizable, though not vulgarly so. Of course, she had often noted that people generally found fault only with other people’s money and not their own. Cedric was her father’s heir. And it was Papa’s largess that enabled her brother to enjoy his prolonged stay in America. Cedric’s departure had been rather unexpected, given their father’s declining health. But when she’d asked about it, her grandmother had simply said it was none of her concern what her brother chose to do. He was the heir; she was merely his sister.

 

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